The lesser evil
by Pellaeonthewingedlion
Summary: Sansa overhears a conversation she shouldn't, and she must make a lifechanging decision Ratet M for savety and/or later chapters !Now without Beta-reader again!
1. Chapter 1

**Greetings everybody, this is my first fanfic ever, hope you enjoy it. I tried to give my favourite ship a different start**

**English isn't my first language, actually my teachers always said I would be hopeless, so I am very grateful for my beta-reader DiamondEnchantress, she is very helpful and her suggestions really improve my work greatly, especially my Grammar and spelling and phrases **

**The TrafficGraph told me many readers stop after Chapter 1, please give it a chance, the story really starts with chapter 5**

**Started to revisit, found many mistakes, but I fear not all, I only correct the grammar not changing the content. I know there is a quality gap between the first and last chapter, see it as development  
**

**Revisited 20.04.2013**

**Nothing is mine, and GRRM will most likely hate me for writing fanfic**

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Sansa used as always the nearly hidden ways of the Red Keep when she was on her way to the Sept, not risking running into Joffrey or a member of the Kingsguard. She still prayed every day, prayed for Robb, her mother. The way was dark, but empty, so she could feel at least a bit safe. She walked on a gallery when she suddenly heard voices from beneath and stopped in motion.

"I won't accept that the Tyrells get Winterfell, they have enough power by now, so I will marry Sansa Stark off."

The voice of Tywin Lannister made itself heard, Sansa quickly hid behind a column, but before she risked a quick glance down. She saw the Queen with her father and uncle standing in the hall, nobody else was there. She didn't dare to move from her now hidden position, fearing they would hear her.

"The Stark girl will marry Ser Gregor Clegane, Winterfell and the North will be his price for his constant service to our House."

Sansa felt a knot in her stomach when she remember the "Mountain" but didn't dare to make a sound.

"Clegane, father, really?"

"Your brother refused to marry her, so I have no other choice"

"And you believe the girl will survive this? How many wives of Clegane have already perished, three?"

The queen nearly sounded worried.

"I will order him to be careful until she gives him a son, the Lords of the North will follow Ned Stark's grandchild, after this happened the girl is of no use to us."

With these words she heard him turn and left.

"A pity, the poor girl" Ser Kevans voice was calmer than the one of his brother, he even sounded sad.

"She is still a traitor's daughter uncle, she will do what we think is necessary, and she can be lucky that she didn't lose her head over her little plot with the Tyrells. Like father like daughter. But the Mountain will most likely make sure of this, eventually"

"Maybe she got lucky and your brother change his mind, Tywin gave him three days. Nobody deserves the hell she will go through with Clegane"

"And the vile little monster that calls himself my brother should be better?"

A small laugh escaped the Queens throat.

"You may not believe it Cersei but your brother is a better man than you think, he is smart and has the ability to be kind, yes he even could make her happy, and if you and he would put your differences beside you could accomplish a lot together."

"Now you're ridiculous uncle."

The queen left with large audible steps and let Ser Kevan stand alone in the room not aware of the shaking girl on the gallery

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**Hope you enjoy, because of the 2 days waiting thing I have a few more chapters ready, review and I publish**


	2. Chapter 2

**I'm a little ahead of my schedule, and I want to celebrate to finish a really hard chapter, so here we have one, I always try to have a few chapters on the line in case of a writer blockade, so the next will be in a week or so**

**Also: I know the Mountain is unrealistic but I needed something horrible to give our favourite couple a new and hopefully better start**

**Thanks for the reviews, keep going, I need the feedback**

**Revisited 20.04.2013**

**I own nothing**

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Back in her chambers Sansa paced the room like an animal in a cage; she had dismissed her maiden so she could be alone.

What should she do? What could she do? Dontos had made it clear that he wouldn't be able to bring her out of the city sooner.

What were her options? She remembered the tournament for her father, how the Mountain killed his own horse. She knew the stories about him, he would kill her after he abused and raped her, all because of her gods forsaken claim. How had she sinned to deserve that? She would be the last of the Starks, when the war was over; she was smart enough to understand that Robb couldn't win. And so should she die and her house with her? Why was she still in the city she could have fled with the Hound? What could she do now?

_There is an alternative._

Lord Tyrion, the Imp, the ugliest man in the seven Kingdoms.

_He saved you from Joffrey, he was kind to you, and what did Ser Kevan said, he could make you happy. After all didn't you also pray for him, during the battle? _

She remembered his face, his ugly face with the huge scar, his twisted legs and his waddling.

_Better than the Mountain that rides._

Would he change his mind, would he marry her? She didn't want to marry him, but anybody would be better than Clegane.

_Why should he change his mind? He already refused. You must make him._

Now she felt sick, but it was right, she would have to make him. But then she couldn't go with Ser Dontos, or could she? No, she was still a Stark, she still had honour, she couldn't ask him to marry her, no, to save her and then leave; she would have to stay.

_To lie with him, to give him children_

She threw herself on the bed and curled up into a ball, nauseated by her own thoughts.

She wasn't stupid, she knew this was her only hope to survive, she would have to act, and she would do everything what is necessary. She was Sansa Stark of Winterfell, she was going to be strong, she survived Joffrey, her father's death, she could do this, and after all he was the lesser evil.

_'_Maybe this won't be so bad after all, maybe the gods are merciful?'

_No. the gods aren't merciful._

She call for her maiden and order them to make the bath ready, after her bath she chose the gown she looks best in and braced herself to search and meet Lord Tyrion.

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**Hope you all enjoy it and beware desperation and horror is needed, otherwise it couldn't get better**


	3. Chapter 3

**Here I'm again, someone asked for a longer chapter, so her it is, from now on I will combine two in one to avoid chapters under 1000 words, but I can't guarantee for anything **

**I want to thank my reviewers Mrs-Imp, slebourg, and the two guests, for their support and 2L d'R for favourite my story, please continue and tell me what you think**

**Revisited 20.04.2013**

**I own nothing**

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Tyrion sat in the solar of his 'personal' dark, dungeon like, chambers, working on Littlefinger's accounts. His father must really hate him, bestowing on him his new accommodation and his new appointment as master of coin instead of Littlefinger.

'How was the man able to find anything in this chaos? Maybe because it was chaos he created?' He answered his own question.

His father had made him Master of Coins, 'how nice of him', giving his son the most unappreciated position in the entire realm after the smirking pimp had retreated to marry Lysa Arryn.

His nickname was most likely the reason for his business with whores, his "little finger" must have given him constant complexes during his entire life.

_State the right man, dwarf_

He poured himself some wine, to calm his nerves, when a knock at his door interrupted him. Who would visit him here?

"Come in."

To his surprise it was Sansa Stark who stepped into his rooms, she wore a stunning blue gown and her auburn hair was aesthetic coiffed. She looked beautiful and Tyrion couldn't resist thinking briefly of her as his wife, an opportunity he had.

_No, don't think of it, you refused for reasons, she is a child, a hostage, and she would never want you, it is wrong to force her, dwarf. You are the ugliest man of the seven Kingdoms and a Lannister, you refused for good reasons, so get a grip._

"My Lady Stark, please come in, what can I do for you?"

He jumped from his seat and walked around the desk, to meet her.

'How should I start?' Sansa thought to herself, 'please marry me so I don't get killed by the Mountain.' Not a very good way to start a marriage.

_Focus, you will die if he does not agree._

She looked at him, but despite her tries she couldn't stop to stare at his scare, he was so ugly even when he just stood at the side of his desk.

She remembered the last time she had asked a Lannister for something, it had been Joffrey, she had asked for her father's life. He had broke his word and had killed him, she had sworn never to trust a Lannister again. But now she had to convince him, and had to trust him to keep his word or it would be her end. The knot in her stomach grew bigger and bigger and she wasn't sure if she would be able to hold her tears. Her armour of courtesies was cracking by her thoughts, of all what would come and her fear of Clegane. Looking at her feet she made a quick decision.

Tyrion still waited for her move when she suddenly dropped to her knees her gaze fixed to the ground. Tyrion wanted to move forward but her shaken voice pinned him to where he stood.

"I can be a good wife."

Tyrion was sure he looked dumbfounded at the moment; he needed a moment before he could answer her.

"My Lady? What do you mean?"

She couldn't know, nobody knew.

"My lord, I know you refused to marry me, but please consider it again. I know I'm just a daft girl and a traitor's daughter and this is most likely why you refuse but I beg you to think of it again. I will be a good wife for you; I will do everything you demand, always loyal and obedient."

She started to sob and Tyrion felt like somebody had hit him with a hammer, no like Robert Baratheon had hit him with his hammer.

What was this? Was it his father's doing? Yes, most likely his way to convince him, sending a scared child, playing his games with her. What a nice family he had. Or maybe Cersei, she couldn't wait for him to leave Kings Landing so it could be her doing as well. It was most likely her doing.

"My Lady, whoever sends you …"

She interrupted him, tears fighting their way through her eyelids.

"Nobody send me, I … I'm here out of free will. Please … I don't want to marry Ser Gregor. I … I … can't, please"

He nearly couldn't understand her, because of her sobbing, tears streamed down her face now. He finally understood why she was here. She must have found out what his father's plans were and that he refused. 'Really father, the Mountain?'She was here because she was scared, because he was a better option than the Mountain. She was ready to humiliate herself, in order to save her life.

_Foolish dwarf did you really believed she would want you, you are just a better option than a Mountain who would crash her, why should she want you, heh? No, nobody will ever want you, nobody ever did._

But did it really matter, could he just send her away and see her with this monster; wouldn't it make him to an even greater monster?

He slowly took a few steps to her and took her hand, her soft pale hand in his

"My Lady, please look at me"

She slowly raised her head and looked at him, her eyes red and puffy, Tyrion kissed gently the back of her hand.

"I will do what you ask of me. Please don't fear me or of what will come"

Sansa felt relief at his words. She wanted to hug him, out of gratefulness, but she couldn't. After the knot in her stomach had disappeared suddenly a new one just started to grow, she thought of her and him, married.

"Thank you my lord, you are ..."

He silenced her with a wave of his hand, looking at her, feeling uncomfortable with her so vulnerable. She still knelt, looking at her knees.

"Please, my Lady don't kneel in front of me, rise."

After she got to her feet she looked down at him and saw him smile at her, it might have been meant to be reassuring, but without a nose it only made him look more grotesque and sinister.

He offered her a handkerchief and she gladly took it.

"My Lord is very generous."

"Please My Lady, we will be married soon, call me Tyrion," he moved to the table, "do you want some wine?"

"Thank you my Lord, but I would like to return to my chambers."

"Of course, of course, but I think it is best if we will pretend this never happened." He gestured with his hand and smiled again.

Sansa dropped a curtsy and left quickly.

_-##-_

After she had left Tyrion took a seat on the couch and drained his cup, he would be in need of much more wine. He thought about what had just occurred. Sansa Stark, ever wearing her armour of courtesies, never exhibiting her true feelings, the girl who had survived the death of her father and Joffrey's cruelty, a hostage suffering because of his family, had broken down in front of him and had begged him, yes him, to marry her.

_She is desperate, and searched for a knight to rescue her, but you're not a knight, just the preferred monster_

So, he would marry her, and then what? She was a child, barley a woman. How could he be with her?

He would have to send Shae away, he thought, he couldn't dishonour Lady Sansa in that way. He had decided to marry her, because she asked him, not because his father had forced him to do so, or her.

_Yes, tell yourself this lies sweet lies, not more they are, she is still forced to do so, only you are not. She still has to live with you in misery_

He remembered Tysha, and how happy they were.

_She was a whore, it was all just an act, fool, you're a monster nothing more, a stunned monster, nobody ever loved you or was happy with you._

He decided that he would try to prove to her that he wasn't the monster everybody thought he was. Maybe he could make her happy, or at least less miserable, maybe they could be happy together, eventually, maybe she could love him.

_Hahahahhaha, hahahaha fool, foolish dwarf hahahahahah_

He had tried to make her more comfortable, back when he had been the Hand of the King, but she didn't trust him then. Why should she do so now? He remembered the helpless girl, beaten by the Kingsguard, the "valiant" knights, because of this lunatic of a nephew. Dishonouring the institution of the Kingsguard with their actions, and even worse their Lord Commander, Jaime. He had wanted to execute them all for this, not because of Sansa, no, to his shame only because of Jaime. But he had known this would have only caused more trouble so he had let it go. He shouldn't have. And Sansa, the girl was so afraid of him that she only repeated her trained courtesies, he hoped she wouldn't continue this during their marriage. 'If yes, their lives would be miserable. She still feared him, he was aware of her gaze, her disgust for his look. Could he manage this, could he life with her, or she with him? We will see, maybe it won't be so bad at all.

He decided that he would inform Shae tomorrow, first he had to inform his father; Lord Tywin will be pleased to hear of his decision.

He drained his cup again and on his way out he called for Pod.

"I will be in need of more wine when I come back"

"How much do you which for me to fetch my lord?"

He was on the way to his father, the little lion on his way to the lions dent, to the great lion.

"As much as you can find, I will need a lot."

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**I'm ashamed that I wrote it that way, but I needed something big, I hate to see Sansa beg, but I believe it fit into the situation**

**I need reviews, a lot of them to feed the muse; I fear a blockade so, please**


	4. Chapter 4

**And Here I'm again, I really thank you for your comments, I hope there will be more**

**This chapter was really hard to write, and it's temporarily the last, I use the book plot for, after this chapters starts my own little adventures.**

**A question first, do you like the UK spelling or should I use American spelling, learned both so I really don't care, just give me your feedback**

**Revisited 20.04.2013**

**I own nothing **

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The day they brought her new gown, Sansa already knew what would happen. But she had to keep her appearance up, the queen couldn't know, this could have terrible consequences. She could stop it only to hurt her and give her to the Mountain. She and the queen's handmaiden bathed Sansa and coiffed her hair. They were just in the process of dressing her in the new gown, when the queen arrived.

"You look very nice Sansa, you're such a beauty"

"Thank you your grace." Sansa bowed her head in acknowledgement of her compliment.

The Queen's voice was like honey but Sansa knew it was just an act; her green eyes were cold and vicious, maybe even mischievous. She went around her and looked her up and down.

Would she tell her what happened next, or wanted the queen to see her shock? Would she enjoy her discomfort?

But then she thought: 'What if Lord Tyrion didn't go to his father? No, he gave his word.'

_Did he? He is a Lannister don't forget it?_

Suddenly panic rose in her, what if he had lied? What if he had just played his game with her? What if she had to marry Clegane?

"It's a shame, to waste you on my brother."

'He didn't lie' she thought in relief 'He is better than the rest'

_Only because he was honest, low standards Sansa, low standards_

Sansa needed all her concentration to hide her relief, but the queen demanded an answer and startled her out of her thoughts

"Did you understand me, Sansa?"

She laid a hand on her shoulder and Sansa averted her gaze to the ground, the Queen shouldn't see her eyes, Sansa feared she would see that she wasn't shocked.

"The king decided to marry you, to my brother" she paused, most likely hoping for a sign of shock but Sansa's features were blank, calm. Disappointed the queen proceeded "You can call yourself lucky for his grace generosity; after all you're the child of traitor. But he granted you a match with a member of his own family, I know my brother isn't like other men, but you will do your duty, right, Sansa?"

"Yes your grace" She tried to stay calm.

"Good, Sansa, follow me" she gestured to the door and left. Sansa followed without a word. Two members of the Kingsguard waited in the hall. 'After all I never had a chance.'

Joffrey waited in front of the Sept, an evil and mischievous grin on his face, but the only thing she could do was to bow her head.

"I will be your father today" Hadn't she had so much time to think about it, about her upcoming wedding and how it would proceed, she most likely had defy him. But she had been able to steel herself against everything Joffrey could have said, before it happened so his words only pounced back from her armour. During the last few days in the privacy of her chambers she practised and reviewed every word she would say today, every move. She hid the anger in her, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of reaching her mind.

"It's a honour your grace"

He clearly wasn't happy with her reply, he most likely had hoped for an opportunity to yell at her or punish her, humiliate her, but she wouldn't give him such satisfaction.

He still wanted to spat something at her, she could see it, when Lord Tyrion came out of the Sept and walked in their direction.

"My Lady, how wonderful to see you" He bow first to her and then to Joffrey "Your grace, would you be so gracious and give us a minute, or two" He smiled at him, but only with his lips not his eyes. Or at least not with his green one, the black Sansa couldn't read.

Joffrey let out a grunt, but the queen lead him away to the Sept, not sparing a single gaze for her younger brother.

Lord Tyrion turned to her, he looked tired and, to her surprise insecure.

"My Lady, are you sure of this, if not I still can stop it"

The numb was back in her stomach, panic rose; no she couldn't let this happen, everything, but not Clegane. She used all her strength to look him in the mismatched eyes, not staring at his scar and put a smile on her lips.

"I'm sure my Lord" Her voice didn't tremble, she was strong, she could do this. He nodded and gestured to the doors

"Then let us do our duty, my Lady"

-##-

The wedding hadn't been so humiliating than he had feared it would be, at least not for him. They had spoken their vows and she even had knelt when he had put his cloak around her. Joffrey of course had had to touch her, 'and they call me a monster'.

After the ceremony they had had a feast in one of the smaller dining-halls of the Keep. Only a few courses and one bard, for sure not what his bride had always imagined for her wedding. He hadn't even danced with her, he hadn't wanted to embarrass himself or her, but still, all he had done had been to sit at the table and drink

_You are such a wonderful husband, sitting at the table and get drunk, only a whore or two and you can be mistaken for Robert Baratheon._

He had watched her dancing with the other guests and had hoped she would be at least a bit happy. But no, of course she was not, it was all just an act of her, a very good act, but only an act. It hurt him, how much she had to suffer. It had been then when he had decided to prevent the bedding. 'Maybe a bit less distress would be good for her and he could give her that' He had thought to himself. He also had to admit Joffrey's face had been hilariously funny. Pretending to be drunk hadn't been so hard and threatening to castrate the king had been better than he had thought, the only hard thing had been to avoid bursting out into laughter. It maybe ha been a great risk, but hilarious and he had spared Sansa Joffrey's touch during the bedding ceremony.

Now here they stood, in their temporary chambers for the night, he, the imp, and his child bride.

Sansa stood beside the bed, still in her gown. She was beautiful, with her auburn her, her long legs, her ivory skin and her blue eyes, yes her gorgeous eyes. And there was he, the twisted imp. She looked like one of the maiden, out of a fairy tale or a dream, yes that was she, but who was he then?

_You're not the knight, if you thought that, you are the monster who holds her captive, ravishes her_

No, he was no monster.

She still stood there, watching him, uncertain and nervous. But she also looked afraid. 'She thinks that I'm drunk'

"Don't worry My Lady, I'm not drunk, if you fear that" She shouldn't be afraid, not now. He wanted to tell her why he acted like how he did, back at the feast.

_No, you want a reward, applause, you pathetic little man_

He rethought his words "But I plan to become drunk this night, do you want some?"

She nodded, but still stood stiff where she was. He fetched two cups and filled them. After he passed Sansa one of them he settled himself on a chair. She drank fast, she was nervous, he knew that, but did she also feared him? This was the question burning in him.

"Do you want me to disrobe myself, or do you..?" He looked up and found her gesturing to her gown, looking questioning at him. No he wanted to remove it, but could he, how would she feel if he touched her. It was not to avoid but still, maybe it would be easier for her if they take it slow, reducing it on a minimum. Does she even know what would happen?

"No, please, do it yourself and lie on the bed" he hoped he would sound friendly, encouraging, but her trembling with her gown and her uncertain gaze told him differ. He looked away he wanted to give her some privacy to calm her down; maybe it would be easier for her.

She lied on the bed and wanted to pull the cover over her.

_She really doesn't know_

"No, Sansa" He didn't know what else he could have said, he couldn't explain everything just now, it only would frighten her more. He blew the candles out and approached her, losing his own clothes on the way and climbed on the bed beside her. She was so beautiful, it nearly hurt him. She was condemned to be with him, he the imp. He reached out for her breast when his gaze felt on her eyes, they were pressed shut, he looked more careful and saw goosebumps covering her arms and she shivered lightly. Did she fear him, or what would come? No he couldn't do it, she shouldn't fear him, he wasn't a monster, and he didn't want to be a monster.

"My Lady... I cannot do this. We will wait. The turn of a moon, a year, a season, however long it takes. Until you have come to know me better and perhaps to trust me a little." 'And I'm certain you don't fear me.' With these thoughts he left the bed.

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**I always wanted to know what Tyrion thought during his wedding, this is my idea.**

**Hope you enjoyed it and that you will give me feedback.**

**Something else, I want you to choose some points of the story, so concerning Joffrey**

**Sword or poison? Beware, every decision has a consequence, one more horrible than the other and mean different character could die. But you have time, the poll apply a chapter with a higher number than 8**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hello together, this chapter finally starts with building up their relationship, hope you will like it. But I'm a little disappointed that I only get two reviews, I hoped for more. But thanks to the two who reviewed.**

**Tomorrow my term starts again and I have no idea if I can update in the way I did the last four days, but I hope so.**

**Revisited 20.04.2013**

**I own nothing**

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Panic rose in Sansa, she just had seen Joffrey in the yard, with two members of the Kingsguard, most likely on his way to her chambers, at least she thought so. The new chambers, she and her husband had been given, were near the castle kitchen so there was a small chance that Joffrey would go there, but she feared differ. She feared that he wanted to her. She remembered what he had said to her during her wedding feast. He wanted her in his bed, no matter what. Was he on the way to do it, or did he plan another cruel joke on her. He had never done anything but humiliating and torturing her for his own personal fun. She had to hide, but where? The chambers were spacious, but nowhere to hide, there were enough room but no place where he wouldn't find her immediately. And if she would leave the chambers she would ran into Joffrey.

'Tyrion'

He could protect her, Joffrey might had said he would behead him, but she doubt he would dare it with Lord Tywin in the city. Even if he disliked his son he wouldn't let him die, or would he?

Either way it was a chance. He was in his solar, like every day. Every morning, since their wedding, he left the bed and went to work, he came back to her for supper and retreated back to work shortly after. They didn't talk much, he tried to speak with her but she only gave him her courtesies, trying not to stare at his scar and avoiding his mismatched eyes. He still hadn't claimed his right in their bed, he could but he didn't. He had even ordered her to wear a night gown. Sansa then rolled to her side, relieved he had held on to his words in their wedding night. She had been so nervous back then, fearing what would come but he...

Footsteps behind the door let her make a fast decision and she quickly shooed to the oak door of Tyrions solar, opened it quick and went inside, carefully closing the door behind her.

Tyrion looked up from behind his desk, obviously surprised to see her.

"My Lady is something wrong?" there was concern in his voice. She approached him, trying to hide her fear of Joffrey when suddenly the door opened again and the King walked inside, his wormy lips smiling.

"My dear uncle and aunt, what a wonderful day, right?" his smile grew wider every second

"My Lady Sansa would you care to accompany me? You won't regret it, I'm sure of that" His eyes were just evil and his pretended courtesies weren't better. Sansa couldn't think, too much interrupted her thoughts and she slowly took a step back hoping not to tremble.

Tyrion seemed to sense her distress, because he left his seat and walked to her side. He looked at Joffrey and took one of her hands in his. Sansa was relieved not to startle by his unfamiliar touch. He stroke slowly the back of the hand he hold, it felt strange, he was so gentle.

"I must beg your pardon your grace, but unfortunately I require my lady wife this afternoon for myself. You must see, we a freshly married and we just can't get enough from each other. If your grace knows what I mean" he grinned and fixed Joffrey with his gaze, the King looked a bit taken aback by his words. Sansa just tried to keep calm but she felt her cheeks blush and goosebumps rising on her back. Joffrey obvious hadn't expected her husband's reply and didn't know what he should do now.

"This is the moment you leave your grace." Tyrion friendly offered an answer to his nephew's puzzled look. When he finally seems to understand he just growled, turned on his heels and left like a child that hadn't gotten what he had wanted, slamming the door shut with a loud boom.

Tyrion released her hand and walked to his desk "A cup of wine my Lady"

"No, thank you my Lord, but I should leave" she wanted to take her leave when Tyrion started to speak again.

"Please stay, my Lady, I told the King I require your presence and you should never lie to a King. It isn't very healthy, you know?"

His voice was nonchalant, but Sansa immediately knew what he wanted, and the knot in her stomach was back, so was the nervousness. She didn't know how to response on his announcement, so she stayed silent.

'What, he wants that? But he promised'

_He is a Lannister, what did you expect?_

She felt the cold rose in her spine and the Goosebumps were all over her. She started nervously to play with her hands when he came back with a cup of wine for her, gesturing her to sit in the chair opposed to his, he gave her the wine and made his way behind his desk. When he turned back to her he produced a wooden box and a paper board.

He grinned at her.

"Did you ever played Cyvasse, my Lady?"

-##-

He saw the relief in her eyes when she realized what it was he wanted from her. He also was relieved. He hadn't wanted to startle her, but on the other hand, it was refreshing to see some emotions. Since their wedding she had worn an armour, an armour of her courtesies, she was trained in them, she knew them and so he could understand why she felt save with them, but he wanted more. He wanted her laugh; he wanted her to come to him willingly, to bring him her joys and her sorrows and yes, her lust too.

Fortunately, he hadn't to explain the game to her, so they were able to start, sitting there, in his solar, and playing a game of Cyvasse.

"A very good move my Lady, you are a natural talent in this game" He stated after a few moves.

"Thank you, my Lord is very gracious"

She averted her head in modesty, he didn't like it, she was good at this game, very good but she was still in her shell and he had to elicit her out of it if he wanted to talk to her, to be with her. She was really good, he for himself wasn't an amateur either, but he hadn't played Cyvasse in many years, since Gerion had disappeared, so he was rusty. He used to be better, but now.

'However, she is back in her shell.'

"Tell me something about you, Sansa, what do you like, which is your favourite story?"

He wanted to start slow; such a harmless question was perfect. He smiled at her and poured some more wine for both of them.

"Jonquil and Florian my Lord"

"A really wonderful story, tell me, why do you like it" He really couldn't care less for it, he had read all stories but was more interested in real history than fairy tales. He could have a conversation about them but had never been so thrilled about it. But she had started to open herself to him and it was good.

She began to explain the story to him, why she loved it, and of course didn't forget to mention his sister's very annihilating opinion of it. Suddenly, during her speech he noticed her hand waving over a dragon gaming piece, it would have been a great, yes brilliant move, if she would do what he thought she wanted to. But she changed the direction of her hand and wanted to move a peasant, a childish move, every idiot would have known not to do it, so he interrupted her.

'She wants to let me win, no, not so'

"My Lady, I would be very insulted if you would let me win, you know?"

She blushed, caught in her actions and moved the dragon. He shouldn't have said that, then now the only thing Tyrion could do, was to goggle about what she just had done. She disabled more than five of his gaming pieces in a single move.

'I'm definitely rusty, when I didn't saw that coming'

He leaned back in his chair and smiled brightly at her. She was more than a good player, she was a worthy opponent, he hadn't had such a thrilling game in years, since Gerion. She now started to make more and more moves like the one and Tyrion realized that she would win easily.

During her distinguished game she talked with him, only about inconsequential, but she did, they had a real conversation. This was what he wanted, to sit in his solar playing a game of Cyvasse with his wife drinking wine and talk to an intellectual equal. He didn't felt reduced or ignored and he loved it, and he started to love her. Her obvious wit and brilliance combined with her beauty. She was able to bet him, this alone was much worth. At the end, she proven it by taking his king, nobody was able to do so in many years.

"Oh no, you bet me my Lady, what a shame for me and my house, I should throw myself to the ground in front of you" he exhaled and theatrically put his hand above his heart

A light giggle escape Sansa, but to his disappointment she quickly covered her mouth with her hand and averted he gaze to the ground and mumbled:

"Pardon my Lord."

"No, Sansa, no please don't do that, I really like it when you a joyful. I really enjoyed our game, where did you learn to play so good?"

The moment the question had left his mouth he had known that he had made a mistake. She put her hands in her lap and looked to her knees, her face a mask. The only place she could have learned how to play like this was at Winterfell and he, the fool, just reminded her of what she had lost.

"My Lady, I'm sorry, I didn't want to cause you discomfort or sorrow, about your family."

Her voice wasn't more than a whiff:

"My family were traitors my Lord, I'm loyal to the king and so I am not mourning for traitors"

Once again her mask and courtesies, she might have survived with it until now, but Tyrion didn't want her to wear it when she was with him. He reached out and took her hands in his, leaning over the desk.

"Sansa, look at me" He waited until she did to continue, "There are two, no three thinks you should know. First of all, please call me Tyrion, at least here in the privacy of our chambers. Because if not I will start urging you to do so by calling you my Lady at the beginning, the middle and the end of every sentence." His words brought a small smile back on her lips.

'Good that was a start. "Second, nothing what you said or will say to me will ever reach the ear of somebody else through my mound, as long as you don't which it. Please trust me in that matter, or trust at least the vows I took. And third, maybe the most important of all, no matter if the throne sees your father and the rest of your family as traitors, there is nothing wrong to bemoan them. I can't even image your sorrow but let me help you. I won't push you to do anything, but they were your own blood, don't pretend to everybody you didn't love them. Keep this façade in public, but, please, not here. You must talk with somebody about them, you have to grieve for them or it will eat you from inside. You don't have to talk with me, although I would appreciate it, but talk with somebody."

She just looked at him silent and he sat down on his chair again, fearing he accomplished nothing.

"Care for another game" he smiled again, wanting to ease the tension in the room.

"Yes, Tyrion"

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**Hope you liked it, I certainly do, I would love to see Joffrey's face. My Sansa learned Cyvasse in Winterfell by Maester Luwin. I hope I didn't degrade Tyrions intellect, wasn't my goal**

**Review, please**


	6. Chapter 6

**And I'm back again, hope you enjoyed he last chapter, if yes, review. And thanks to the one who did so**

**I wrote two chapters today but won't post until tomorrow, after six hours study**

**The poll for Joffrey is sword at the moment, you decide my hands are clean but don't wine if you don't like it, time is until Thursday.**

**I am normally as emotionless as Tywin so sorry for the bad executing of the content**

**Revisited 20.04.2013**

**I own nothing**

* * *

After they had retreated to bed he asked her if she wanted to speak about her grief. She didn't want, so Sansa denied politely and turned away from him, hoping the issue would be done. She didn't want to talk to him, because she didn't know if she could really trust him. After their game she wanted to. The realisation of that shocked her more than she could have imagined. Why did she want to trust him? He was still a Lannister, and all Lannister were liars, the murder of her father. Or was she wrong about that? Why did she want to trust him?

_Because he is different, isn't he?_

She had to think about it later, maybe tomorrow. She wasn't in the mood for such deep and potential dark thoughts. It was a nice day, better than any other had been since her father's death. She enjoyed the game, Maester Luwin had told her to play, but she never really practised her skills, she had just improvised. She had realized she was good in it, she had heard at her instincts and they had led her to victory. Although she never would admit it, his struggle to beat her and his frustration, because he wasn't able to, had amused her. She knew he had been a bit frustrated, but he hadn't showed it to her. It had seemed his cheerfulness about the situation, she talking to him, spending the day with him had been stronger. She also remembered how it all began, Joffrey and his puzzled face. In hindsight she had to suppress a giggle, his stupid look had been just brilliant. Yes it had been a nice day.

Suddenly his baritone voice reached her ear from behind.

"My mother died giving birth to me." He sounded sad, his voice struggling for strength "My father and my sister always blamed me, maybe it was my fault, I don't know. They say I ripped her open coming into this world."

Sansa turned around following his voice. He lay on his back, eyes to the ceiling. She knew she had probably to say something but she didn't know what she could say. He just lay there, hands folded on his chest. What did he intend with this? 'Why did he tell me this?' Her thoughts were interrupted when he continued to speak:

"My father never loved me, or even wanted me. He thinks I'm a constant disappointment, a shame for our house and he never failed to make it clear how he thinks. He would like to see me dead, which is the reason why he sent me in the vanguard during the battle at the green ford. He can't just dispose me, I'm still a Lannister and it would harm our so precious and so 'good' house reputation. Even when I'm the least in his eyes, his constant need to enhance our house stops him. My dear Sister is even worse, she hates me, hates me more than you probably can imagine, and she hasn't the scruple my father has. This scar" he moved a finger above his facial scar, "it's most likely her work, her fear before my father, or better his presence over her is to thank that she didn't dare to kill me as a child. Now she can't do anything, as long as he is here. But as soon as she has a chance she will try again. Both always prefer Jaime, the perfect Lannister, the golden knight. I probably should envy him, he got everything and I got nothing, but I can't. He was the only good during my childhood, the only one of my family who was kind to me. He protected me, he treated me as an equal. For that I will love him forever, I would do everything for him." A little smile appeared on his face "My uncle were good to me too, especially Gerion, I wanted to go with him on his voyage to the free cites, but my father didn't allow it. I could blame him he said. Oh how I would love to proof him wrong, but what can I do, I'm just a monster"

"No you are no monster" She was overwhelmed by what he had told her. He had told her everything about him, his grief, his thoughts he probably had never told anybody. Why had he done so now? Did he trust her? Sansa could only feel pity for him, she might have endured the queens disdain since her father's death but he had endured it his whole life. He had never had a family, at least not a real one like she had had. He had only had a brother far away in the Kingsguard. And now he had a wife who didn't even trust him, had he deserve that?

He looked at her, she could hardly see him in the dark, but his green eye glowed a bit in the moonlight, and only sadness was in it.

"Sansa, I'm a malformed vicious imp, nothing more"

Sansa didn't want to hear that, she didn't want him to pity himself. But her words would only sound like courtesies. But she could do something else. She turned, so that she lay on her back eyes to the ceiling, similar to how he had done.

"Bran was always my favourite brother, and he loved to climb" with that she started to tell him about Winterfell and her life before Kings Landing. She told him how she had cuddled with Bran and her fights with Arya. How Rickon had been with his wolfs-blood in his veins, from Robb and even from Jon. She told him from her direwolf Lady. She told him how her mother had brushed her hair in the evening and how her father had danced with her standing on his feat, Old Nans stories and the castle itself. She wasn't sure why she did it, or if she really trusted him but she still told him.

He had shared his childhood with her, and so wanted she. Somewhere on the way she started to cry, overwhelmed by her sorrow for her brothers, her father and Arya. It was like a dam had broken. All her feelings, she had hid behind her armour, protecting them from the queen and Joffrey's cruelty streamed free.

He then lightly wrapped his arm around her, pulling her to him with his surprisingly strong arms. She didn't struggle, or fight back, she just cried for her family, crying her dolefulness out of her. He hold her during she cried. His touch wasn't unwelcome any longer, it was appeasing. Sansa didn't know why, but she felt somehow save in his embrace. His stature was the one of a child, a strong one, or a large cuddly toy. But he wasn't something like this, he was her husband and he wanted to comfort her. She buried her face in his neck and cried, cried about everything what happened to her since she left Winterfell, she cried for her father, Bran, Rickon and Arya, Lady, for Robb and her mother who were still in danger in the middle of a war. She cried all the tears she held back. And slowly fell asleep in her husband's embrace.

-##-

She startled out of her slumber, when suddenly somebody hammered at their door.

"My Lord Tyrion, My Lord" A man shouted from the other side of the door in an unsteady voice.

What was going on? She turned her head after she sat up on the bed. It was dark; it was still in the middle of the night. Tyrion slowly rose up too rubbing his eyes

"What is going on?" She knew he never sleep deep, but now he looked like he slept deep and peaceful, why?

"Lord Tyrion, can I come in"

Tyrion wasn't very pleased, she could see that

"Yes, come in for gods sake" Sansa quick covered herself with the blanked, she still wore the night gown, but it didn't was ladylike to be so exposed, even with a shift. She pulled the blanked to her chin. A servant in Lannister crimson entered their rooms, he looked troubled, even terrified.

"My Lord, it's.. It's your father, you must come with me"

"What is going on, why are you here, at this hour?" The servant was taken aback by Tyrions growling voice. He was really displeased, Sansa thought.

"I can't explain, your uncle ordered me to fetch you, you must see it, it's is.." wildly gesturing the servant turned to the door. Tyrion jumped out of the bed and put some clothed on. He dived to the door, but turned in the doorway, looking at her.

"Don't worry Sansa, I'm sure it's nothing, go back to sleep" he gave her one of his smiles which meant to be reassuring but his scare destroyed as always the intention. He left the room and closed the door following after the servant, leaving Sansa alone in the room.

Sansa didn't know what to think. What was going on? Why had the servant been so terrified? Fear crept in her bones. What if Lord Tywin had won a battle and had killed Robb, or her mother? Maybe the king had decided to punish Tyrion for his actions this afternoon? What would happen to her? Why had it to happen now? It just started to get better.

_The gods are cruel, that's why_

Sansa lay awake for hours, Tyrion didn't return. What had happened to him? She was afraid for him. Yes she cared for him, he had helped her, had been kind to her, had comforted her. How did that happen? In a few days he had turned from an enemy to her confidant, how?

_He was never your enemy_

Yes he never was, she wanted him to come back to her, even hold her, calm her down from her fear.

He returned near dawn, silently opened the doors and walked in. Sansa sat up on the bed. He looked pale and disturbed. 'What happened?' He approached the bed and climbed up. Settled besides her and leaned his head against the board of the bed. He looked strange, Sansa had never seen him like that. She was nervous what could have happened. His voice was soundless; she couldn't determine all his emotions.

"My father is dead"

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**Hope you liked it, review, please**

**Something else, why are there more Sansa/Jaime stories than Sansa/Tyrion, they never speak! Why is our ship so unpopular whyyyyy!**

**I don't forget "new chances" but I finish that story first at this speed I might need a few weeks but hey**


	7. Chapter 7

**This is a long one, thank you for your reviews and following.**

**I just realized I forget the Jeyne Pool part, but I can handle that part easy in a later chapter**

**Hope you will enjoy it**

**Revisited 20.04.2013**

**I own nothing**

* * *

Tyrion followed the servant through the halls of the Red Keep. He was angry to be woken so deep in the night. He had never slept so deep in his live. After Sansa cried herself to sleep in his embrace, finally letting out her feelings, he had fallen asleep as well, his head on hers. It was so good; he had never expected he would ever experience something like that. He was glad she had finally opened up to him. She had shared her feelings, with him, it still surprised him. He hadn't expected she would open up so quickly, but had been relief she had done so.

The entire day had been a relief, first his opportunity to spoof his repulsive nephew and then their game of Cyvasse. After the first game he had known she was brilliant, he had been aware that she wasn't stupid but watching her playing like that had been more than he had ever believed to see.

After the third game he had realized he would have to improve his gaming skills or she would constantly humiliate him. He won't risk that; he would grow frustrated and sooner rather than later let it out on her. He didn't want that, not at all, she had opened up to him, had talked to him and he was happy about it. It seemed she would start to trust him; he didn't want to destroy that. So he had to be careful with his doing and his tongue, not wanting to say something that would hurt her.

He had enjoyed every minute of her companionship and he wanted more, so much more. And there was a chance he would get it.

The evening had been even more 'intense', he had known she had had to talk about her feelings but would never do so, she had hid them to well behind her armour. He had had to start, showing her a bit of trust, to talk to her, sharing his childhood and his sorrows with her. After all, she was his wife now and that was what spouses do, wasn't it? He had talked his soul out and after he had finished she had taken her turn and had told him what had lain on her mind.

He had never experienced something so intimate with anybody in his life. All the whores he had had, they had just acted but this, this was real. Her grief had nearly broken him, all good his family had taken away from her. He wanted to comfort her, to say that he was sorry but he hadn't been able to do the last. He didn't want to be guilty; he wanted to be her saver not the villain.

_You are the monster here, don't forget that_

But at least he had been able to give her comfort in his embrace, when her dam and armour had broken and the tears streaming down her cheeks. It had felt right to hold her and she had taken his embrace with gratitude, at least he wanted to think so.

Deep in his thoughts Tyrion didn't notice that the servant led him to the tower of the Hand, and after the arrival, Tyrion followed him up the stairs to his father's chambers. In the staircase he finally realized where he was, turning his head left and right he noticed nobody else were there.

"Could you be so friendly and tell me what happened, now would be very convenient." Sarcasm and frustration in his voice, he grew angrier with the servant and his father to call him now.

To his further frustration the servant kept silent. Finally arriving at the floor of his father's chambers, Tyrion noticed the guards were accompanied by a small crowd in Lannister red in front of the door. What was going on, it was the deepest of the night. The men bowed their heads when Tyrion passed them, unusual polite and silent. He marched into his father's chambers, his old chambers he acknowledged with a quick thought.

After he opened the door a very 'unpleasant' smell reached his nose. Where was he, in Flea Bottom? He grimaced in disgust, but closed the door behind him locking the crowd out. He didn't want too much ears hearing the wigging his father would most likely give him, he always did so and the tower had enough alien ears. He looked around and found the source of the smell, he never would have thought what he saw now and suddenly he couldn't move any more. His father lay on the bed, face pale as death hand folded on his chest, his trousers coloured brown.

_So much to shitting gold_

His father was dead.

Kevan knelt at the edge of the bed, praying, nobody else was there. What had happened? How had it happened? He still couldn't move, fixed to the floor by the sight. He needed all his willpower to take the first step and the second and slowly he approached the scene in front of him. He reached out with his hand, gaze fixed on his father's body.

"Father? Uncle?" He felt a little bit like a child, he was confused and the second time in this week he didn't know what to say, not knowing what to do. He hated the man in front of him, but still he had been his father, his maker. Knowing he was dead, he forgot all his mortifications. His father was dead. What now?

Kevan slowly raised his head and looked at him, sadness in his features.

"The Maester said his heart just stopped"

_There are many who thought he had none_

"It just stopped and he broke down on the floor. The servant who was with him quickly called me and Pycelle, but it was too late, he was already dead." His uncles voice was weak, he always spoke calm but never weak. 'Just so?' No, this couldn't be, he had been fine, just a day ago, when Tyrion had seen him. He wanted to say something but suddenly the door swung open and Cersei stormed in the room, he hadn't even noticed her absence. She looked at least as troubled as he felt when the servant woke him. 'Was it the same servant who was with his father?'

_Unimportant, focus!_

"What happened? Why was I called so late at night?" Demanding and as snobbish as always Cersei overlooked the room, her gaze fell first on Tyrion and their uncle and then on the bed, her eyes widened in realisation. Her gaze fell back on him.

"You, you monster, you killed him" She pointed her finger in his direction, accusing him, her voice was hysteric and he quickly took a step back, fearing she would try to strangle him. Kevan quickly stepped between them, turning towards Cersei.

"Cersei, calm down, I just called for him, your father died because of his heart" Cersei stopped in motion still piercing him with her gaze

"No he poisoned him, I know it" Now it was Tyrions turn to speak, her words deeply hurt him, after all he had never thought of himself as a kin-slayer, but poison, could be an explanation, he had to investigate further on that.

"My dear sister, after all he was my father too. Do you really believe I would be capable of killing him? I never took actions to hurt any member of our family" He didn't know why he justify himself in front of her raging self "But I agree with you, his death looks suspicious, Pycelle should examine his body" Who could have done it? Stannis, the Tyrells, a citizen who wanted revenge for the sack of the city? Oberyn Martell, he had welcomed him just two days ago and he hadn't made a secret out of his wish for revenge for his sister and her children. During his exploring of the possible suspects he didn't notice that Cersei continued raging.

" 'Never hurting a family member', please, you vile little thing, do you believe I would believe you? You took Tommen away from me, sending Joffrey into battle, and Myrcella into a snake pit. And mother, you killed her" Her voice grew every second she spoke, turning into a scream. Her accusations hurt him deeply, but now wasn't the place or the time to deal with it.

"Stop it, both of you, show some respect!" Tyrion never witnessed his uncle raising his voice, still standing between the siblings, he was obviously angry with them. "Your father is dead and you act like spoiled children, have a grip and pull yourself together."

Tyrion now felt guilty for his behaviour, he hadn't wanted to anger him, or showing disrespect.

_Please, I know you want to dance on your father's grave_

Even Cersei found her posture back. She looked still raging, but she was good hiding her feelings. Years in Kings Landing had told her that. Tyrion still didn't know what now, or how he should feel, he decided to ask.

"What now, uncle" Thousand thoughts flew through his mind, fears of the future.

"Tyrion, with Jaime in the Kingsguard, you are the Lord of the Rock now, and I would advise you Cersei to appoint him as Hand of the King again, at least temporary." He? Lord of the Rock? He had always wanted what was his by law, but his father had made clear he would never get it. But now his father was dead, and he was the Lord. Cersei didn't look happy.

"He, Lord of the Westerlands? Never, father never wanted him, and Hand of the King, are you kidding me uncle, I would rather make Moonboy Hand." She started raging again, seeing her hated brother rising higher than she had ever expected. Tyrion knew she saw herself as the greatest of Lord Tywin's children and her ego would never survive him as Lord. He would have laughed about the absurdly situation wouldn't his father's corpse lie a few feet besides them.

"Your brother is the heir Cersei, you can't change that and despite your father's irrational disrespect for him, he is the best for the job as Hand. Do you know Genna once described him as a second Tywin? He is going to be Lord; the Westerlands are now his, live with that. He has my support and Gennas for sure too, the Lords will hear what we say and swear the oaths to Tywins son." Tyrion was stunned by his uncle's support, he had never imagined such a back-up from him."Concerning the position as Hand, as long as the war continue we must show unity, towards our enemies, but more important to our ally. Tyrion was Hand, and not a bad one, he also follows your father as Lord and is so the leader of the Westerland soldiers now. Don't ask me to rule, I don't want the post. Make him Hand; only as long as it takes to end the battles and the wedding is over, when your power is solid, appoint who you want. But now you must do what I tell you or everything breaks into pieces."

Tyrion still looked in disbelief over his uncle's speech, Kevan was right. He gave him more power than he even could imagine and Cersei could only stand there and watch. He would be the richest and most powerful Lord of the seven kingdoms, ruler over armies and mines, Cersei and Joffrey could do nothing. From now on he was the one with the power not they and when Cersei chose a new hand he could retreat to the Rock and spending his days in peace. He could read and play Cyvasse with Sansa all day.

'Sansa' What would she think about all this? How would she react? They wouldn't go to Winterfell, how would life be for her?

_You get everything you wanted and you worry about her?_

Yes he did, he worried about her, he wanted her approval, her affection, even more than the Rock, he realized in surprise.

"Fine" Cersei looked like a cat just escape a sack to drown in. "But dare you to forget who is Queens regent" He could see that she still didn't like it but with amusement he realized, eventually she had no choice. She had to do so.

They remained in silence for a few minutes; Tyrion thought about what all this meant for him, still standing in is spot. He hadn't moved the whole time. Their uncomfortable silence was disturbed by a knock at the door. The servant again, the man started to annoy Tyrion. Still pale the man leaned into the room, looking at Kevan.

"My Lord, they are all here." Kevan turned to him, recomposing his facial expression

"Are you ready to attempt the troth of your lieges, My Lord?" Kevan walked to the door, turned and looked at him.

Was he ready? He was a Lannister, of course he was. He stepped to the door, leaving his father and Cersei behind.

The hall was filled with men in different coats, all from the Westerlands.

'Kevan had called them all' they stand in front of him waiting, when Kevan started to speak:

"Tywin Lannister is dead, behold Lord Tyrion Lannister Lord of Casterly Rock, Shield of Lannisport, Warden of the West. Pledge your loyalty to him as your new Lord." His voice was loud but not threatening, it was like he announced somebody important.

_You are important now_

Without hesitation the men bended the knee to him, and took their vows. They were his men now. He was their Lord.

-##-

After this improved ceremony was over, he shook some hands and heard some Westermen who assured him of their loyalty. Vary was there too, congratulating him. He was tied of all that.

After he discrete ordered Pycelle to examine his father. The old Maester wasn't pleased with him in power, remembering their feud. After he had sent the Lords away he headed to his rooms. He would move to the tower of the Hand in a few days.

He was accompanied by two soldiers, he was the Lord now, he couldn't just go alone. They would wait in front of his chambers, like it had to be done.

He mused about what happened, when it hit him: His father was dead. He finally fully realised it, he felt his blood flooding out of his head and his heart fell. He continued walking, he didn't want to show weakness, but in the inside he felt like, he couldn't even describe how he felt. He had to talk to somebody, Sansa; he wanted to talk to Sansa. Tell her about his feelings. What happened to him, that he wanted to talk to her so urgently?

_She know your feelings, and you trust her, she told you from her feelings like you told her, you never talked to somebody like that._

Yes this was it, he had shared everything with her and wanted to continue, he wanted a confidant and she was who he wanted.

After he walked through their door and settled on the bed, he looked at her. She looked uncertain, afraid. 'What did she thought had happened?' He hit himself in his mind for not sending somebody and assuring her that nothing was wrong for her. She most likely lay awake in fear from the unknown.

_Idiotic dwarf_

He leaned his head at the board.

"My father is dead"

* * *

**Hard chapter, I will put more and more politics in the story, but I won't forget the two of them, don't worry**


	8. Chapter 8

**Here I am again, hope you enjoyed the last chapter and you will enjoy this.**

**Revisited 21.04.2013**

**I own nothing, all belongs to G.R.R. Martin**

* * *

"My father is dead"

Sansa didn't know how she should response to that. She didn't even know how to feel. Lord Tywin Lannister had been her enemy, Robb's enemy. He had led Joffrey's armies, ruled his kingdoms. Even if Joffrey and the Queen thought differ. He had wanted to sell her to the Mountain and after the night she knew how bad he had treated his son. But he was also Tyrion's father, she knew how it was to lose the father, she had experienced it herself. What could she do? How felt Tyrion right now? What did all that mean for them? She reached out for Tyrion, wanting to comfort him, like he had done. She laid her hand on his shoulder and looked at him. He looked so insecure. He scratched at the scab where his nose was, a habit of him, but it brought attention to the scar.

"I'm sorry Tyrion" She still didn't know what else to say or to do.

"The Maester said his heart just stopped"

'He had had a heart?'

"I'm not sure what really happened, if he died of natural causes or was murdered. I'm not sure if I want to know. I even don't know what to feel, he hated me, despised me, but he was my father." His voice was low and weak; he stayed where he was, not moving.

'He shared his feelings, again' Sansa was unsure what to do. Even after their night of sharing their sorrows with each other she wasn't sure how to deal with it. But she was sure that she pitied him. She empathized with him. She didn't want him to be depressed, like she knew he didn't want her to be depressed. They were married and they were supposed to be happy. She laid an arm around his shoulders and lean against him. Now it was his turn to lay his head on her shoulders, their high different made it easy. She on the other hand leaned against his head, her cheek on his hair. It felt good. They stayed in this position, silent, Sansa comforting him with her presence.

It took a while until her uncertainty came back. What did it mean? How was to deal with the situation?

"Tyrion, what happens now?" She didn't want to sound fragile and afraid, but she did. Lord Tywin's death could mean that she and Tyrion were at Joffrey's grace, and she knew, he had none.

"Don't worry Sansa, nothing will happen to us" He sound still weak, but strength returned in his voice. She was amazed how fast he put his own sorrow beside to comfort her in her fears, at least she thought so.

"I'm Lord of the Rock now, the Lords of the Westerlands already pledged loyalty to me. And my sister had, even if she didn't like it very much, appointed me as Hand of the King, at least temporary. My father's men are now my, and yours." What had he meant with hers, who was she?

"I don't understand, Tyrion, my?" A small laugher escaped him. He turned to her and put his hand on her cheek, looking her in the eyes.

"Sansa, you are my wife, did you forget that? That makes you to the Lady of Casterly Rock" He smiled at her "And this, to my sisters eternal grief, I must add" She, Lady of Casterly Rock? A few days ago she was nothing more than a royal hostage. A hostage of the Rock and now she was supposed to be the Lady of it, Lady of the men who fight against her brother? Did it mean she won't go back home? Would the men now fight against Robb in her name?

"I'm sorry Sansa, but we will be stuck in the city for a bit longer than planned. We will retreat to the Rock as soon as my duties as Hand are fulfilled and peace is back." He exhaled noisy "I know you wanted back to Winterfell, home, but we were anyway not able not arrive before the winter ends. I hope you can forgive me." Not back to Winterfell, was this good or bad for her, she wanted to go home yes, but wanted she really back or just escaping Joffrey and the queen? She had to think about that, maybe it wouldn't be so bad, maybe she liked the Rock. But now wasn't the place, or the time.

Tyrion looked uncertain what to do, he most likely asked himself if he had hurt her with his words or broke her trust to him.

"It is all right, I am not mad." She smiled at him, hoping he wouldn't flagellate himself for something he hadn't had influence on. After all he was Lord of the Westerlands now, and so he had duties, like she had as the Lady of Casterly Rock. Yet first she had to figure out what that exactly meant. But for now, she just wanted to sit there on the bed with her husband, comforting him, because he had been the first who comforted her.

-##-

They hadn't found any sleep that night; they just had sat there, on their bed leaning at each other. At dawn they had broken their fast and Tyrion excused himself. He had wanted to go to the tower and starting to work. She had liked it if he had stayed, but she knew he couldn't. They would move into the tower in a few days, after the funeral.

She wasn't very happy about it. Was the tower the place she and her family had lived before everything had gone to the seven hells. Tyrion had assured her, even a little inconveniently, that she shouldn't be worried about it. He had 30000 men in the city, he was certainly more powerful than her father was and guards would be there, everywhere. He hadn't sounded like he had been persuaded himself. But he had tried.

She was on her way to the Sept at this morning when suddenly Joffrey stood in front of her, in the yard, again accompanied by two members of the Kingsguard. She had been in her thoughts and hadn't paid attention to her surroundings, a mistake she regretted immediately. She always paid attention, never wanted to run into the King, but now he stands in front of her. She only could focus on Joffrey, he stood in front of her, an evil grin on his lips. He finally got her and she couldn't escape. Panic was back in her, and fear.

"Your Grace" Her courtesies sprang back in motion, they became an automatic mechanism. She bowed her head, not wanting to show any weakness. She wasn't ready to give him the satisfaction of scaring her.

"My Lady Sansa, I hope you enjoyed your day with my Imp yesterday." She frowned by his insult of Tyrion, how dared he, he was better than Joffrey ever would be.

"Yes I did your grace, apologize that I was unable to accompany you." She didn't sound fragile; she was able to compose herself. Joffrey reached out and grabbed her chin, lowering his head and looked her in the eyes.

"Oh, I'm sure we can make good for what you missed" He sounded even more sinister than Sansa had imagine he could. All blood flooded out of her, it was over she was alone, nobody there to help her. His grip would let bruises on her, but she feared even more.

"My Lady! Your grace." An unfamiliar voice sounded from behind her. Joffrey released her and step back. She turned around and saw five men approaching them, they coats were crimson and they wore expensive armours. The leader of the group, a young man, maybe twenty, bowed his head a smile on his face when he stood in front of her. He turned to Joffrey and repeated the motion. His companions followed his example.

"Excuse us, for the interruption but I wanted to introduce myself. I'm Cleautus Myatt, son of Lord Fextus Myatt. My friends are knights of the Westerlands, we accompanied Lord Tywin" He gestured to the men behind him, but than his features showed concern, like his voice did: "My Lady, you look as you were in distress"

Sansa didn't know what this meant, what did this man wanted from her? Why had he approached her in the yard? His coat showed a tree-cat, yellow and black on a mud-brown field. A crest she had never seen. Who was this man?

_Cleautus Myatt, didn't you hear him?_

Myatt looked between her and Joffrey, who still stand there, obviously not knowing what was happening and, according to his facial expression very unhappy not to be involved. Myatt's features suddenly darkened in understanding and he gazed quickly at his men, before he turn to Sansa again.

"Do you need assistance, My Lady?"

She still wasn't sure what he wanted, was this one of Joffrey's jokes?

But then it hit her, they were men of the Westerlands, her husband lieges, his men, her men. They most likely had heard what Joffrey had done to her, he had never been very discrete. She remembered her beating in the yard, her public humiliation by the hands of the Kingsguard.

The men had wanted to introduce themselves because their new liege lord was her husband. Now she smiled inside; the Lords of Westeros were always duty bound to their Lord first and then the king. But how far would they go?

"Thank you, my Lord, very friendly of you to introduce yourself. But I'm fine, actually I was on my way back to my chambers" She smiled at them but kept her armour up, just in case.

Joffrey, of course, didn't understand what had happened.

"Oh, my Lady was…" He wanted to start but Myatt interrupted him, interrupted the king. He and his men already had their left hands on their swords. His voice was like honey:

"Do you need an escort, my Lady" They wanted to protect her, she realized in relief, she was their Lady and nobody dishonoured the wife of a great Lord, not even the king. The Westerland Lords were proud and would see it as an insult if Joffrey would lay his hand on her again.

Joffrey obviously in rage wanted to spat something but it seemed he finally understood the situation, he only had two member of the Kingsguard and there were five knights in crimson and at least another hundred all over the yard, he was inferior and couldn't do anything.

"Thank you my Lord for your generous offer but I don't think I have to fear anything" she smiled at him, turned to Joffrey and bowed "Your grace". With these words she left, trying not to show her pleasure over the situation, hiding her smile. And Joffrey, the mighty king just stood there, five crimson men between him and her.

-##-

Back in the privacy of her chambers she leaned against her door, after she had closed it and fell to the ground, laughing. She was so relieved, so happy she couldn't do anything else. She was safe, Joffrey couldn't do anything to her, she didn't have to hide any more. She felt more freedom than she felt in a long time. Now she had power, men who would fight for her, yes knights, like the one out of her stories.

_The stories could have told you that you need to have power in order to have knights_

Yes it was better now. She got more in this few days than she could ever have imagined, a husband who cared for her, finally safety from Joffrey and who know what more would come. She just sat there on the floor, not very ladylike, leaning at the door and laughed, enjoying her luck and happiness. She hadn't done that in a long time. She deserved it.

Tyrion came back to supper with her, he looked overworked and tired. They talked about their days. He nearly fell laughing from his chair when she told him the story of Joffrey and Myatt. He told her who he had appointed to follow him as master of coins and to her relief that the mountain had gotten another destiny, a destiny he wouldn't enjoy. He looked like he wanted to tell her something else, but he didn't. What was it? Was it something bad?

Either way, after supper they played one game Cyvasse. He played better this time; it took nearly three hours until they stated a tie. The conversation was centred to history this time. She enjoyed it too, not so much as she liked the one about stories but Tyrion was clearly in his element and she liked to see him not desperate by the death of his father. If she was able to distract him, she gladly would. He had taken his father's dead good, why?

After the game they retreated to bed, Sansa didn't turn away, and he hugged her again. So they fell asleep curled up in each other

Yes it was getting better.

* * *

**In the medieval the subjects didn't actually care who ruled them, it came up with nationalism, so I found it realistic that the Westermen accept Sansa as their Lady. I never thought it would be a hurdle that she is a Stark and that Lannister and Starks were at war against each other.**


	9. Chapter 9

**So thank you for your reviews and the feedback. I recently have some problems to write because it gets into another hot phase**

**So please I need more reviews to feed the muse**

**Revisited: 21.04.2013**

** Susan: I had only 3 lessens of Latin, so a bit too much for me, but I could translate it and thanks**

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Tyrion sat in his old new solar. His father had sat where he sat now till yesterday. He didn't want to think about it, he wanted to forget it all, so he decided to work. He was Hand of the King again and so he had duties, a lot of duties. But he was tired, it was a very exhausting night, he hadn't slept since his father died. He was so very thankful for Sansa, she had comforted him until dawn. He loved it how they had sat on the bed, in silence, comforting each other with their presence. He hoped she wasn't so disappointed that he couldn't bring her to Winterfell sooner, but maybe he could do something else for her. He was now in the position to end this war without unnecessary blood, without any more deaths on Sansa's side of the family and he would do so.

But now he had to work and had to put all this thoughts beside or he wouldn't be able to do anything today. But still, he always thought back to Sansa and actually he just waited to see her again this evening, playing Cyvasse with her.

Luckily Kevan had offered to manage the funeral and he was happy not to deal with it. Cersei was still busy with Joffrey's wedding, she didn't want to move the date of it no matter if their father was dead of not. And so he was the one to rule the Kingdoms, finally.

He wanted to start with the letters and documents, but Bronn, who stood outside, now head of his personal guard, interrupted him. He announced Mace Tyrell.

The Lord of Highgarden marched in the room holding his belly and offered Tyrion his condolence. The fact that he was not looking very sad was of no business for him.

'What an idiot, he should learn to act'

Tyrell wanted to talk about the vacant position of the Master of Coins. He offered his son Garlan for the post.

'More power for the Tyrells? Why not, let him have this job'

Tyrion had hated it to be Master of Coins, it was an ungrateful job and if Garlan Tyrell really wanted to suffer, shall it be so. But it bothered him that Tyrell didn't wait until his chair at the council or his father's body were cold to come to him. Was he the one who had killed him? If he was murdered at all, Tyrion still waited for Pycelles report.

Soon after Tyrell left, Lord Varys the Master of Whisperers visited him. How should he finish any work today? His perfumed 'friend' didn't bother himself with much condolence, even if he was much better than Tyrell by hiding his true feelings. The eunuch seemed not very happy that Tyrion was back at his former post, but who knew what he was up to, Tyrion certainly did not. He had to be more careful with him now. He doubted Varys could be responsible for his father's death, but like he had said, who knew.

Around midday Oberyn Martell, the Viper of Dorne arrived. Tyrion had invited him to discuss a matter of importance, at least for him. The arrogant man sat in the chair opposite to him, smiling at him. He didn't make a false attempt to show his condolence. Tyrion was certain he had celebrated his father's death the night, maybe he even was the murder, after all Martell was famous for using poison. But this wasn't the matter he wanted to discuss.

"Lord Martel, You certainly remember the deal I broke with your brother, back at my last term as Hand"

"I certainly do. You promised us justice for Elia, but all we received is a man who unfortunately fell into a bear pit, what an unlucky coincidence. My Lord Hand" The last words were more mocking than anything else. He wanted to play? But Tyrion didn't want to, yet.

"I can't comment my father's doing, my Lord, but you and I know the mountain was always suspect number one for the murder of your sister and her children, and a Lannister always pays his debts. I intend to give him to you, so you can have the trial and your 'justice'" Now Martell was dumbfounded, and Tyrion liked it. The man was sympathetic but arrogant Tyrion liked only one of these traits.

"You would hand out Gregor Clegane?" Oh yes he would, he didn't like this monster, he had frightened Sansa nearly to death, it would be best to get rid of him and Doran Martell wouldn't be very mercy-full. It also would lure them in a wrong feeling of security. The problem would be done. And whatever Clegane would confess in Dorne it didn't matter anymore, his father was dead and nobody else could be blamed, this ugly business would be over.

"Of course we expect a fair trial" Martell really looked like a viper by Tyrion's words.

"And of course he will get one"

After Martell left, Tyrion ordered a captain of his father, no, his captain, to ride out with one hundred men to capture Clegane, so he could be shipped to Dorne.

The day grew long and Tyrion was bored from the work in front of him. Absently he started to play with his pin in form of a hand, thinking of Sansa. He wanted the day to be over, to be back with her. It happened then that he dropped the pin to the ground.

'Splendid' He bended down and reached under the desk. His gaze fell on a bundle of papers. It lain hidden on a separate depot or better not hidden, more out of sight. Only who knew where it was could take them. It had been a coincident that Tyrion found it, only because of his height and the unusual ankle he had to use to reach the pin. He reached out for it and laid it on the desk, curious what it could be. It was a collection of letters, letters with a surprising origin and shocking contend.

His eyes widened in shock when he read them. The senders were the Lords Frey and Bolton, Bannerman of Robb Stark. It seemed is father plotted with them to end the war on the most ignoble and even deviant way Tyrion could imagine. His father had wanted that the Freys and Bolton betray Robb Stark at the wedding of his Uncle Edmure Tully. He had wanted them to kill him, to shatter his armies. He had wanted them to break the guest-right. He never thought even his father would be able to allow that, it was a sacrilege, something unthinkable. He must have been very desperate to take such actions.

The question now was, if he should let them proceed or not. His father had been right it would end most likely the war, Stannis was already as good as defeated, and only Robb Stark and the iron born stood between Joffrey and absolute power.

He frowned by the thought, his nephew and absolute power, hell no. But even more important for him, this plan would cause the death of Sansa's brother, maybe her mother too.

'She will hate me if I let them die' He didn't want her to hate him, he wanted her to love him, he couldn't let something get between them. Especially something like the deaths of her family, he couldn't let anything hurt her like that. She would be devastated. He had to stop it, but how?

He could just order Frey and Bolton to stop the whole thing, but the war would continue and maybe Sansa's brother would die another day. Joffrey and Cersei wouldn't stop, until everything was theirs.

'And then they start to fight each other, will be fun' He had to find a way to deal with the problem and secure peace. He thought about the possibilities and then the solution hit him. At the moment he could do what he want, he ruled the Kingdoms, so he could broker a peace, but in order to do so he had to talk to Robb Stark.

He started a letter to Roose Bolton, he ordered him to proceed with the plan but he wanted him to arrest the Starks and their men. If Bolton wanted to live he would obey, or he would crash them. He would send men to collect the prisoners and would send them to the Rock, there, in his domain. He could negotiate with them without Cersei or anybody else to disturb him. He would offer Stark and Tully to bend the knee and the return into the king's peace, without further punishment. It would be like nothing had happened.

_Despite the dead you moron_

He would back them up with his men if Joffrey would think of breaking the truth. They were after all one family now. He explicitly wrote that nobody were allowed to harm his wife's..., no his brother- and mother- in law. He remembered them what had happened to the one who had dared to assault the Lannister family. He copied the letter for Lord Frey and called Pod.

"Bring this letters to Pycelle, make sure he send them away, stay with him, be sure he doesn't read them, observe him the hole time, do you understand?"

"Yes my Lord." Tyrion wasn't sure how he could possible observing Pycelle with his gaze fixed to his boots, but fin.

"Tell him I expect him, as soon as possible with his report about my father, and send Bronn in when you leave." The boy slightly bowed and left the room.

A few moments later Bronn stepped in

"Close the door" Tyrion said, the former sell-sword wanted to sit down but Tyrion gesturing him to stop.

"I have a very delicate and important task for you." Tyrion smiled at him. Bronn was obviously displeased to stand, but he wouldn't be in a few minutes. Tyrion knew the walls had ears, but Varys could hear what he had to say. "I send you to the Twins, you will take five hundred, no one thousand men, stop at Harrenhal and collect the northern prisoners, take them with you. Lord Frey will capture Robb Stark and his family for us. I ordered them that they are not to harm, same is essential for you, understood?"

"Yes" The sell-sword was a bit taken aback by his task and the number of men he would get.

"You will bring them all to the Rock. I want you to make sure they have comfortable quarters. Lords Frey and Bolton will make problems because the hostages are valuable, make sure, in your best manners of course, how grateful the King is for their proof of loyalty, especially because of their past, and I would hate to doubt their loyal intentions" The two of them grinned

"So, they get nothing? Nice"

"Yes, nothing, they will slay the guest-right and can be glad not to end on the block for this. And make sure you get all hostages, especial Robb and Catelyn Stark, alive and unharmed." He put much pressure in his words "And if they are not 'alive and unharmed'?" Tyrion also thought of this. "I think I deserve my own 'Raines of Castermere', wouldn't you agree?"

Tyrion slowly took out a map to show him what he meant "My cousin Daven is with an army here, I will give you orders so you have the mandate to take control. Lead them to the Twins. Make sure everyone in the seven Kingdoms will know that I'm my father's son."

"Yes, but there is one thing" Bronn looked a bit insecure, but Tyrion was sure he had no problem with his orders. He just had not the title to command such forces.

"Don't you wonder why you stand? I don't wish that my sister or the queen get the hostages in their hands, that is why I send you, and therefore I intend to finally buy your loyalty. For eternity, not to rent it, you understand?" Tyrion left his seat and walked around the desk to stand in front of Bronn

"You know, this will be very expensive" Bronn commented snarky.

"I thought so, so I will make you to a Lord, a nice castle, lands all out of my hand. If I lose you lose everything too, so you will have an interest not to betray me"

"I don't intent to" Tyrion liked the sellsword, but he wasn't stupid, he needed his loyalty and had to secure it with lots of money, fortunately he was a Lannister so gold was no problem. Bronn would be his Clegane. He had much more amenity than this butcher. "I don't require you to kneel, just take this" he gave him a role of parchment "I appoint you Lord of Silver Vale, and make you to my first captain, after this war is over you will be very rich and powerful. But first, fulfil my orders. Here are also the orders for the troops at the Rock, wait there until I arrive or send other instructions" Bronn couldn't hide his smile, but fine "I also want you, when you are at the Rock, to investigate who were a member of my father's household guard, the first hundred."

"Why?" Bronn asked, Tyrion had a debt to pay, a debt out of his nightmares

"No matter for you, just make sure they won't be when I arrive" Bronn looked a bit puzzled

"Won't be there?"

"No, just won't be" With this he sent him away, he still had a lot of work to do, but was very happy with himself, a very productive day.

He spent a few hours with a book about Cyvasse strategy and waited for Pycelle.

Pycelle didn't come, and Tyrion was not as angry as he should be, but he doubted the loyalty of the man more and more, like his competence, he maybe had to depose him. But this didn't matter now, he was on his way back to Sansa, he was joyful to see her again, even if they were separated just a few hours it felt like years. He decided not to tell her of her family, in case something would go wrong, he didn't hope so, but everything could happen.

* * *

**I never liked Robbs death, Sansa deserve to see her family again.**

** Tyrion lacks a moral compass, but now he has Sansa, and IMO she will be his compass. But for now he is still able to do something like condemn a bard to be soup meat, even if he only did it to protect somebody**

**Please review**


	10. Chapter 10

**Hello, I must say I'm not entirely happy with this chapter, but have no idea what to do with it, but still I hope you like it. Thanks for your feedback on the last one.**

**I just wrote a chapter for Joffrey's wedding**

**Revisited: 21.04.2013**

**I own nothing**

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Sansa was on her way to the Godswood. She didn't have to take the dark ways any more, since her encounter with Joffrey five days ago she felt even safer to use the main halls than the dark corridors. The Keep was populated with men, Lannister and Tyrell, and the men in red would protect her. The Lannister men now bowed their heads and smiled at her. There were no nasty grins any more, they were friendly, respectful. She felt safe around them, she knew they would stand up for her now, she was their Lady. She showed them her courtesies, smiled at them, and greeted the men she knew in return.

The last days since Tywin Lannister's death had been busy, for her and Tyrion. He had had to rule the realm, during the queen had been involved with the wedding of Joffrey and Margery in two days. Sansa pitied the Tyrell girl for her lot, she had endured Joffrey and knew what a monster he was. But the Tyrells wanted a crone, but she hoped Loras Tyrell would be able to protect his sister. This was his purpose, wasn't it?

Disregarding his work, Tyrion had still managed to accompany her during supper. They had talked about their days or even joking around, and she had started to enjoy his sarcasm. Septa Mordane might had told her it wouldn't be appropriate for a Lady to amuse herself with such minor kinds of humour but she enjoyed it and didn't wish to trade her fun and happiness in the privacy of their chambers for an ideal Lady her husband couldn't care less about.

After supper they always had played Cyvasse, a game had taken for hours now. She had started to read a book, which she had found in the library, about strategies for the game and if she had to rate Tyrion's game, he certainly had read it too. But it was not about the game anymore, it was about spending time together.

She really liked it to be with him. Discussing stories or history, it required a great amount of reading on her side to reach Tyrion's knowledge but she had time during the day, she hadn't been occupy with much. She could read a book and discussed it with Tyrion in the evening. If he had read it, she used his library so he had to. At least she thought so, but at one occasion, two days ago she had learned that he hadn't read all his books and had enjoyed it to have the superior knowledge, at least once.

The nights were better too, they had developed certain sleeping habits, she laid next to him her head resting at his neck, his left arm around her shoulders. They still hadn't done what husband and wife are supposed to do, not even kissing, his touch had always been innocent.

She wasn't sure any more if she liked it that way or if she wanted more. She was comfortable around him, didn't stare at his scar any more. She even discovered that some of his features are very attractive, like his golden hair or his eyes, first she had feared them but now, they were special, mysterious. She thought that she should talk to him about her feelings concerning their non-existing kissing, and more. Hoping he could give her a solution, maybe it was time?

They still hadn't moved to the tower of the Hand. Tyrion knew what she experienced there and didn't want to see her depressed and he liked that nobody could spy on them in the Keep. But he used the tower to work anyway.

All in all the days were uneventful, expect for Lord Tywin's funeral. Tyrion hadn't had the time to stand guard for his father, but there had been enough men of the Westerlands to fill in for him. It had been a very depressing event, the condolence of the guests, had been mostly feigned, they had seemed happy that Lord Tywin was dead. Only the Westermen had grieved him. Sansa for herself didn't know if she grieving for him or felt sorry for Tyrion, he after all lost his father, most likely it was the last.

Lord Tywin had lain in the great Sept of Baelor, his face showing a grotesque smile. But the smell, the smell had been the worst. Joffrey had refused to appear because of it, and the guest, including her, really had had problems to control their features. Tyrion believed it had been a side effect of a poison, but Pycelle hadn't been able to confirm if he had been poisoned at all.

"He is an old incompetent fool this Maester, I should send a raven to the citadel and demand a new one" He had told her after the funeral. She wouldn't have something against it, remembering her 'examination' after her father had been imprisoned. She couldn't stand the man and was clad she didn't have to anymore. If he would be deposed and send away she would see it as fair punishment for this man, she hoped Tyrion would make it true.

She finally reached the Godswood. A man in Lannister red waited in front of the entrance. She recognized him as Cleautus Myatt, the leader of the group involved in her encounter with Joffrey, five days ago.

"My Lady, it's an honour to meet you again" He bowed his head.

"My Lord, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company or better the fact that you so eagerly waited for me?" She liked to be a little bit cheeky now, she could afford it and it didn't hurt anybody, although Myatt blushed slightly.

"My Lady, I come on behalf of my wife to ask you if you would be so friendly and let her sew with you." Tyrion had told her the Myatts were once a powerful family but had lost much of her influence and power, because of a third son who had fought with the Reynes against Lord Tywin. Cleautus Myatt has joined the forces to redeem his family. He was an ambitious and talented man, Sansa suspected that the request to sew were a try to come to good terms with her and with her husband.

'Maybe some friendly company wouldn't be wrong' Since Jeyne she had no female friends, even her new handmaiden, Tyrion had sent the old away, they had been spies for Cersei, were more respectful quiet servants than anything else. She felt lonely sometimes when she sewed. Only then, but still it wasn't pleasant.

"I would like if she could accompany me, I will send a servant with the invitation after I returned to my chambers, my Lord" she bowed her head and walked in the Godswood.

She knelt in front of the heart tree. She wanted to thank the gods for the happiness and luck she experienced the last days and wanted to pray for Robb and her mother, wanted to ask if the gods couldn't grant them the same.

She just was about to start when suddenly a hand grabbed her from behind, closing around her mouth and another clasped around her waist. Lifting her up the intruder dragged her away from the heart tree. Panic and fear replaced all thoughts of her. What happened? Who was it? What wanted the man? She felt that her attacker was definitely fat and a man, but she couldn't turn her head to see him.

"You don't hold me back, dear, I will bring you to him if you want or not" The voice whispered in her ear and she smelled strong-wine.

'Dontos!' What was he doing? What did he mean? To whom did he bring her? The King? Had it been all just a prank of the King? Had he, her knight, been only the fool in his service? She struggled and fought back, wanting to scream. He punched her in the side with his fist, pain radiated in her body and she fell limp.

But she took all her willpower and after a moment she bit into his hand. The quick moment between and him taking his hand back and his cry of pain she used to scream, hoping somebody would hear her. Free her from this horror.

To her relief she saw Myatt running to her. Dontos threw her to the ground and faced the man. She exhaled when she hit the ground. Her former 'knight' wanted to pull his knife but Myatt punched him in the face with his spiked glove first. With a small sound the fool hit the ground, unconscious. She still laid on the ground, but she was able to see more men in red approaching them. Myatt reached out with his hand and helped her to her feed. Her side hurt and she knew there would be bruises.

"My Lady, are you all right?" She needed a few minutes to compose herself, heavy breathing in pain.

"Yes, I am. I owe you my gratitude My Lord, without you he would have succeeded." She looked down on Dontos. He had been supposed to be her Florian, but no, he had just been another who wanted to capture her. Who did he serve? Myatt spoke again and startled her out of her thoughts:

"My Lady, I will escort you to your quarters and him" he pointed to Dontos "he will spend some nights in a black cell."

-##-

Myatt escorted her back to her chambers, accompanied by four Lannister men. But first he had sent Dontos to the black cells, silently. In her chambers he excused himself after he had sent a servant to fetch Tyrion and then walked outside.

Still in pain Sansa sat down on the couch, she hoped Tyrion would be there soon but it would most likely take some time for him to arrive from the tower.

To her surprise he stormed to the door just a moment later, his face was marked with concern and anger. Why was he so fast? Was he already on his way?

She wanted to rise but the pain grew stronger and she fell back on the couch. Tyrion stood in front of her, his gaze full of concern and she believed recognizing a hint of fear. He put his hand on her arm.

"Sansa what happened? I was told somebody tried to abduct you."

"Ser Dontos, he ambushed me in the Godswood" Her voice was shaking by the memory on what had happened

"The fool, but why" He looked puzzled, he was shaking too. 'Is he afraid too?'

She couldn't hide any longer what she had planned with Dontos, Tyrion had to know, and hopefully he would forgive her. She told him everything, how she had rescued his life, about the meetings in the Godswood that Dontos had supposed to be her Florian out of the songs, the knight who should bring her out of the city. Tyrion was silent just listened what she told him.

"Please forgive me." She didn't want that this would stand between them or her foolishness to believe Dontos would be a knight, she didn't want to destroy what they had, didn't want to lose his trust.

Tyrion exhaled and took her hands in his; he lowered his head and kissed them, before he looked her in the eyes again.

"There is nothing to forgive Sansa. You were alone and wanted to be home, I understand that. I can't be mad at you, I never could."

Sansa took his words with relief, she had been afraid she had destroyed the happiness they had evolved over the last days or his feelings for her.

"I ask myself who he meant with 'him'. You said he had said it, have you a clue who he meant?" Sansa thought about the question but only could shake her head. She had no idea what Dontos was talking about.

"No matter I will question him, but first. Sansa, I have to tell you something."

'What?' His voice was low and he looked nervous, like he feared what would come.

"I was on the way to you when the servant ran into me, I received a raven"

A raven what could it mean?

"It's concerning your brother and mother"

Sansa's stomach dropped, were they dead? 'No, not now.' Goosebumps were back on her arms and the blood left her face.

"If you might know your uncle's wedding occurred yesterday at the Twins" He seemed to sense her distress but continued, holding her hands tighter. "It seems my father plotted with Walder Frey and Roose Bolton to breaking the guest right, he wanted them to killing them"

No, how could that happen, the guest-right were sacred.

_Ask yourself better why he knows about the plot_

"Please, please tell me you don't.." her plea was desperate. She didn't want him to be the man who had allowed something like that. She started to hyperventilate. How could he?

"Sansa, Sansa, please calm down" he told her urgently "they are alive, and as far as I know unharmed." They weren't dead, Sansa could have jump into the air. "I discovered my father's plot and sent ravens to stop them. I didn't want to tell you in case I failed, it would have destroyed your hopes. But they are save, hostages, but save." He had discovered the plot and now there were hostages, how could he? She wanted to accuse him but he spoke first: "They will be brought to the Rock, in safety. I will offer your brother a pardon, he will be able to return to Winterfell as Lord, nothing will happen to him."

"Joffrey and the Queen won't let this happen, they will, they will..." Panic was back and replaced her relief.

"Nothing will happen; I won't let them get a grip on them. I sent Bronn, he is loyal and I will tell Cersei that she has to accept what I decided or she will be alone. I would never bring you sorrow Sansa, nobody will ever upset you again."

She didn't know what to say, joy formed in her, her family was save, all her pain was washed away. In her joy she slid from the couch and swung her arms around Tyrion, embracing him tightly.

"Sansa you, you smother me" He cawed. She released him and sat back on her feet, looking at him.

She lowered her head and kissed him.

* * *

**Finally!**

**I want this story to end someday so I will start to set the ground for it**

**Review!**


	11. Chapter 11

**And again a new chapter. The story grow and grow every day, I didn't intend that it would be so big, but I realized it need to be so to get a realistic development and I have to close so much storylines.**

**Jeyne Pool, Robb, Arya, Jaime, Joffrey, Cersei and and and**

**I have no clue what to do with Dany, she somehow doesn't fit in this story yet**

**Two things, quick**

**Pycelle is IMO the house pervert of the red keep and I have to get rid of him for my plans with Dany**

**Revisited 08.05.2013**

* * *

Tyrion was amazed by the kiss; it was light, innocent, her soft lips felt so good on his. Breaking the kiss she withdrew her face, gazing at him. He cupped one of her cheeks and pulled her back, pressing his lips on hers. He darted out with his tongue and licked her lips demanding access and she opened her mouth. Their tongues danced, stiff, but it was the first time so...

He finally released her mouth and she fell back, leaning at the couch. "Huh" she exhaled, her cheeks red.

"Good huh or bad huh?" He hoped it would be good. He wanted more; he hoped he hadn't terrified her.

"Good huh, definitely a good huh" Tyrion was so glad to hear it; he couldn't hide a smile, going from one ear to the other.

"And ... do you want to continue it?" He sounded uncertain, because he was afraid to ask, what if she would say no?

"Yes, I think so"

'Yes' he never had imagined that a single word could make him so happy, she wanted him, wanted to be with him. He could have jumped in the air and danced around her, but he would look utterly ridiculous. They still hadn't lain as husband and wife, he had feared he would disgust her, but she wanted to explore this part of life with him, he knew that now.

She looked so beautiful, she smiled at him. Her expression didn't look forced, maybe a bit nervous but he could understand that. Everything was new to her and they would have to be slow, building it up step by step. But she wanted to and this was more than he had hoped for in their wedding night.

"I must deal with your attacker, but tonight we will continue, if this is what you really want. Is this good with you?"

She smiled at him and nodded.

-##-

'Ser Dontos Hollard' former knight turned to a fool and now failed kidnapper laid in front of him, still half drunk and whimpering, in one of the black cells of the Keep. He smelled like strong wine and was chained to the wall, a torch illuminating the whole scene. Tyrion had assumed he would look scarier in the flickering light.

Tyrion stood in front of Hollard, Pod at his side. His squire held the torch. Cleautus Myatt stood at his other side. The knight was Sansa's saviour, he had proved himself to be a very talented man and Tyrion intended to reward him. But first he had to deal with the fool in front of him.

By the sight of the man who had wanted to steal his wife he had a hard time to control his anger. Tyrion wanted to kill him bare handed, rip him into pieces. But the fool had said 'I will bring you to him' and he wanted to know who 'him' was. He now regretted that he had sent Bronn away; the former sell-sword would have been able to get him the answers he wanted. But he was on his way to the Twins and Tyrion had to improvise.

"Myatt; who was my father's man for interrogations?" He asked the man behind him.

"A man called the Tickler, but he isn't in the city."

'Damn' His father's monsters were never there when he needed them.

"But there is another one, he isn't as good as the Tickler but he always get the answers you want" Tyrion could imagine what he meant but at the moment he didn't care.

"I want the truth" he turned to the knight "fetch him."

A short period later Myatt returned with one of his father's monsters. 'Old Mate' the man introduced himself. He was maybe forty with a lot of very sharp tools on his belt.

Tyrion stepped in front of Ser Dontos and grinned in his face.

"I want to know for whom you wanted to kidnap my wife, and I want to know why" He gestured to the torturer "and this friendly fellow will make you sing like bird"

Dontos whimpered, fear crept in his now pale face, but he kept his mouth shut. After the smell he still was a bit drunk and had the boldness of the wine.

"You my friend are already dead." Tyrion explained clearly. "You won't survive this no matter what you do. But you can decide how you go. It can be easy, done in a moment or it can take days and days and days" Tyrion had no mercy for the man and so no problem with his threats, because they were true. "Fine if you insist" He turned back to 'Old Mate' "make him talk." Tyrion gestured to Myatt and Pod to follow him out, he didn't want to see this.

Out in the hall he took Myatt's arm to get his attention. "Who knows he is here?"

"Nobody my Lord, I thought it would be wiser to be discrete, not to alarm his employer"

'Smart, very smart' Tyrion was more and more impressed by the man; he was ambitious and in contrast to the most soldiers intelligent. He could be of use.

"You impressed me, my Lord, you served my house very well, and I won't forget it, be sure of that." Myatt wanted to give a response when the cell door opened and the torturer stuck his head out.

"He want to talk, my lord" This was fast, maybe too fast for Tyrion's taste, but he took what he could get.

Dontos pressed himself against the wall, whimpering when Tyrion entered the cell.

"You want to talk?" Tyrion didn't want to hide his anger, there was no mercy for the bastard. When Dontos didn't start to speak he gestured to 'Mate'. By the motion the fool started to talk like a waterfall:

"It was Littlefinger, he was it, not me, he wanted to pay me. After Lady Sansa rescued me he came to me, wanted that I bring her to him, after the wedding. I didn't want to hurt her, but he promised gold. I was supposed to bring her to him; he would wait on a ship at the shore." Littlefinger, that bastard. Tyrion never liked the gauche pimp and never trusted him. What did he want with Sansa?

"And then?" he stepped closer to the fat drunken idiot, Dontos rose his hands to protect his face "And then?" his voice rose and was threatening, he remind himself of his father, Tyrion realized in surprise

"After she refused to come with me, after she married my Lord, I couldn't let go, you know? So much gold, I wanted to bring her into a house at the shore and I wanted to wait for Lord Baelish" She refused, she wanted to stay with him? Even in this dark cell his heart jumped slightly.

"Something else?" he asked, his voice hard like the Rock itself.

"Yes I gave her the hairnet, he wanted me to give her the hairnet, and the meeting in the Godswood." He knew already of their meetings, but what was it about the hairnet, he had to ask her.

"Did Baelish know that you planed to abduct her? Or that she refused?" If not he had a chance to get his hand on him, on board of a ship you didn't get ravens. He would be already on his way, on his way into a trap.

"No, my lord"

"Good" he turned to Myatt, "Make sure nobody knows that he is here and that he survives, at least for now, in the case he lied" With that he left the cell.

-##-

Tyrion arrived in their chambers and found Sansa sitting on the couch, reading a book. She looked better, after the shock had left her but still he could see her distress.

"Sansa are you better?" She nodded. "Ser Dontos gave you a hairnet, where is it?" She looked surprised by his question.

"In the drawer" she pointed to the bedside table and wanted to rise, but Tyrion stopped her with his hand and walked to the table.

He opened the drawer and delivered a silver hairnet, with black stones, out of it. He approached Sansa and sat beside her at the couch. She looked confused, she had no idea what he was up to, so he started to explain.

"Petyr Baelish paid Dontos to bring you to him during Joffreys wedding, but when you refused to go with him he wanted to force you in order to get his money." Sansa looked shocked and her face paled. Tyrion was sorry for destroying her beliefs in the good in humans but he couldn't lie to her not in this matter. The matter of her safety "Littlefinger will arrive by ship, he planned to take you aboard and then who knows. I on the other hand plan to intercept his ship and make him our guest." He wanted to know what the man really planed.

And why he wanted to take his wife. And what was with this hairnet? He examined it, shook it in his hand until suddenly one of the black stones fell of it. Tyrion took it and held it against the light; he recognized it as a black stone formed poison.

"Sansa, do you know what this is?" She was silent and looked a bit bewildered

"Dontos said it would be a magical hairnet, that it would protect me." Anger rose again in Tyrion, how could this man dare to use his wife's innocent in such a way?

"It is a very effective poison Sansa, and if I'm allowed to guess it was for Joffrey." Sansa was pale again

"For him?"

"Yes, his death would be a good distraction, but I doubt that is all. Littlefinger couldn't do something like that alone, he must have partners. He wanted to use you as his donkey and then take you with him." Did they also kill his father? Tyrion laid his head in her lab and eyed the stone in his hand.

"You would have been totally at his mercy; accused as a Kingslayer you would be alone. He would own you, but I'm still not sure why he wanted it" Sansa found her voice again

"He was a friend of my mother, maybe he did it for her" Sansa didn't sound persuaded but Tyrion knew she still wanted to believe in valiant knights, even if she knew better. Did she know?

"Do you know he was the one who sold out your father? Like he wanted Dontos to sell out you?" Her face showed a painful expression. She obviously didn't know and he reminded her at the day her father had fallen.

_Foolish dwarf_

"We should ask him when he visits us" he grinned by the thought of having this bastard at his mercy in one of the black cells. Sansas face however showed a serious and stern expression. It remembered him a bit of Ned Stark, she was after all his daughter and he could see the Stark steal in her eyes.

"This isn't funny, Tyrion. He wanted to use me to murder somebody even if it was supposed to be Joffrey, wanted me under his thumb. And we don't know why" He hadn't meant to be what she thought.

"I don't find the fact of his plot funny, but the fact that we discovered it and that we will be able to capture him. We will ask him for an answer about his intentions and his companions when he is our guest. Won't you agree that a clueless arrogant man like Baelish will run into our trap deserves some malicious joy? I also can take everything my father gave him away and give it back to your uncle, a problem less for us." She laid her hand on his head and stroked his hair, her facial expression was warmer now and a hint of a smile showed at the corners of her lips.

"You're right, it has some quality."

Tyrion closed his eyes, enjoying the situation and her touch. It was so amazing, so intimate, he had never experienced something like that, the last days had been full of such discoveries.

"Should I put it in motion then?" He didn't need her approval, but he wanted it, he wanted to share everything with her.

"Mhm" was her only response, she continued to stroke his hair. He stayed where he was but called for Pod who stood behind the door.

"Pod, call my uncle and Myatt, all Lannister commander are suppose to meet me in the Godswood, but discrete, make sure nobody notice" The boy nodded and left. He didn't want to leave; he wanted to stay where he was, forever, lying in Sansas lab, she stroking his head. Nobody else would be there, only them, no politic, no plots or the game itself. But he had to move, he had to organize the fall of Littlefinger.

"The Godswood?" He heard surprise in Sansas voice when she startled him out of his thoughts.

"No curious ears" He replied with a grin.

-##-

It took some time until everybody arrived in the Godswood. They had had to make sure nobody followed them or noticed. Tyrion jumped from one foot to the other, impatient. He wanted to be back in his chambers, with Sansa. But this had to be done. He composed himself and marched in the middle of the circle, looking around, planning what to say.

"Ser Dontos tried to abduct my wife" mumble rose in the crowd and Tyrion had to wait until they were silent again "He also planned to poison the King at his wedding."

"What?" Kevan stepped forward shock in his face "Are you sure about that?"

"Of course I'm sure, but even worse, he is just a pawn of Petyr Baelish"

"Littlefinger, he is just a minor Lord of a minor house what would he gain?" A Lord of the crowd asked.

"He might be out of a minor house, but he is rich, and thanks to our incautiousness he is a great Lord now, with a claim to Harrenhal, the Riverlands and a powerful friend at the Vale" 'Lysa Tully' "And I believe he has accomplices in the city, people who would gain much out of the Kings death."

Silence, there was nothing than silence in the Godswood.

"I must demand that nothing of what we speak here leave this place, no word to anybody not even to the Queen or the King, I don't trust their surroundings" 'And them' One or two wanted to contradict but found sense by looking at his expression. "To our luck and my personal joy Littlefinger will arrive by ship during the wedding, he had planned to take my wife with him, a mistake he will regret." Tyrion turned to Myatt "I want that our men only pretend to celebrate the wedding, I want them ready if anything happen. If the case comes I want them to strike. Make sure everybody of our 'guests' is under arrest in their chambers and the Tyrell men are out of action. The city must be ours, nobody get in or out. Lord Cleautus Myatt, I appoint you to my Marshall, a great honour, you will requisition five ships and intercept Baelish, I want him in a black cell by dawn." He looked into the round "Prepare everything, but in secret, one mistake and everything is lost."

* * *

**I hope you liked it. I think I hate Littlefinger more than anybody else in ASOIAF even more than Joffrey**

**I suspect he is responsible for the attacks on Bran and Myrcella, the explanation it was Joffrey sound to simple, but you will see, please ****review**


	12. Chapter 12

**Only a single review for my last chapter? Really? However, I'm not mad, just disappointed**

**To Sansa: Yes she developed a cheeky part, but who spend so much time with Tyrion have to**

**To Myatt: There is a House Myatt in the Westerlands, I just imagine the background story. I had to send Bronn away to the Twins and needed somebody to replace him**

**Revisited 08.05.2013**

**I own nothing**

* * *

The day of Joffrey's wedding arrived soon. Sansa was anxious about it. In one way she was happy not to be the bride, Joffrey was just a cruel monster who enjoyed torturing people. But on the other side she pitied Margaery for her position. Furthermore Petyr Baelish and his yet unknown accomplices wanted to kill the King, blame her and also had wanted to abduct her. What if they try again? Tyrion had assured her he had a plan for everything and nothing would happen. But she knew he wasn't sure about it either.

He had made sure his men would be ready, the King's meals and drinks would be overlooked so nothing could happen. She hoped everything would go smooth, Tyrion and she planned to leave the city a few days after the wedding, accompanying Lord Tywin's corpse to the Rock. Tyrion would give up his position as Hand and they would leave with their men, all of them. They would be untouchable in the Westerlands, but much more important was that she would see her family again. Mother and Robb, they would be waiting for her, she would hug them, heart them. They would be a family again. They most likely wouldn't like Tyrion at the start but she was sure it would come by time. She would tell them what he had done for her, for them and they would see his true character.

She had grown closer and closer to him, he trusted her, wanted her advice. They now talked about politics during their games and Sansa had learned that she could influence the politic of the realm. She still wasn't sure if it was right, if she should do so, she was only trained to be a Lady, not a politician. But Tyrion wanted her advice, he had told her she should involve herself at least a bit, it was her world too. So she had started to read the papers he had sent her and discussing them with him, having an own opinion, something unusual for a Lady. Septa Mordane had told her politic would be the duty of men, but she had been wrong.

They had also evolved the relationship in their bed and the intimacy of their marriage. They had started to kiss, first it was a bit awkward, his tongue in her mouth had felt odd, but there was also a warm feeling spread to her guts and she liked it, yes, she wanted even more.

She had started to ask herself if she loved him. Not this flattering she once felt for Joffrey, no this had been foolish. She trusted Tyrion, wanted to be with him, enjoyed his company and she knew he felt the same.

This morning he had surprised her with a new silken gown. He had especially let it made for her as a present. It was Lannister red and Stark grey. She had never wore her father's colours, always fearing to give the Queen or Joffrey a reason to punish her. She was so glad to wear them again, she hadn't known how to thank Tyrion for this gift, but he hadn't been finished. She had also gotten new jewellery: A red-golden necklace with blue sapphires which accented her eyes and a white-golden hairnet with rubies. She realised she now wore not only the colours of House Stark and Lannister, also the colours of House Tully, her mother's house.

"They should see who you are Sansa, I want everybody to see were you come from and who you are now." He had told her when she had observed herself in the mirror. She had been so happy about his thoughtful gesture and so she had kissed him.

-##-

They spent the way to the Sept curled up in each other's arms, their palanquin was comfortable and large stuffed with pillows. Sansa still wasn't sure about all what would happen, what if the assassins would try something. He somehow sensed her worries and held her tighter. Tyrion started to speak of his arrangements for the day. Lord Myatt would surround Littlefingers ship in the bay and seize it. He maybe was doing it in this moment. He would bring her failed abductor to a black cell and interrogate him about his accomplices and report back to Tyrion immediately. Depends who it is Tyrion wouldn't do anything to them; he would lay out a trap and wait for them. In the meantime everything Joffrey would do was monitored, from the ceremony until the bedding.

She frowned by the thought of the bedding, it was so horrible for Margery to have to lie with this monster. And she had to be part of the ceremony too.

"Don't worry Sansa, I think we can leave before the bedding is announced." It seemed he sensed her distress about this topic again; he really started to be good at this.

"I would appreciate that." She gave him a light kiss and curled further to him.

-##-

After their arrival at the great Sept of Baelor Sansa noticed that her gift had a nice side effect which was very amusing. The Queen's face showed a very sour expression because of the choice of colours. 'He most like planed that too' Tyrion wanted to annoy his sister at any possible moment and she gladly was a part of it. It was a way to get back at Cersei for all her insults. She knew it wasn't his first intention with the gown, because than he had get her one in red and gold to rub it in Cersei face that she was the Lady of Casterly Rock not the Queen. He couldn't hide his grin at the side effect. Sansa on the other hand just smiled, took his hand and they walked over to the Queen and prince Tommen, who looked bored to the hells.

"What a joyful occasion, dear sister, wouldn't you agree? You look a bit beside yourself. Are you all right?" His greeting was a mocking and the Queen's face showed that her day was more and more ruined. They bowed first to her and then to Tommen. "My prince" Tyrion's voice was full of empathy for the boy. Sansa knew he loved Myrcella and Tommen. They weren't like Joffrey, they were good persons and she liked both too.

"You look very beautiful Sansa, I like your dress" Tommen voice was friendly, innocent, yes the world would be better if he would have been the first-born

"Thank you my prince" She hadn't a reason to be unfriendly, no she wanted to be friendly to the congenial boy.

"Yes, an interesting choice of colour little dove" The voice of the Queen was cold as usual. Sansa had suddenly the feeling to poke the side of the lioness with a stick. After all the queen did to her it would be fair. Cersei Lannister couldn't do anything to her anymore, so why not?

She guided Tyrion's hand nearer to her and smiled brightly at her "Thank you, your grace, it was a present from my beloved husband, isn't he attentive and caring?" The Queen's poor façade faded away more, she exhaled a disapproving tone and turned to leave.

Tommen stayed, he looked a bit uncertain up to her. "Sansa, you are my aunt now, right?" Yes she was, she never thought much about it but yes, she was his aunt now and to her horror Joffrey's too.

"Yes she is" Tyrion answered for her, because she needed time to compose herself after the thought about Joffrey. Tommen looked to the ground and asked shy:

"Can I call you auntie then?"

Sansa couldn't do anything but smile at the boy "Of course you can, but I'm allowed to call you Tommen then, all right?" The boy smiled brightly at her and she tousled his hair playfully.

He giggled and turned around to run to his mother, who stood at the entrance and looked like she would burst out in fire because of her anger.

Tyrion just exhaled a laugh and turned to her. "A sweet boy isn't he?" Yes he was a sweet boy "It is a shame" the last part sounded sad and made her curious.

"A shame?"

"Yes, Cersei would never allow him to leave with us; I on the other hand believe he would be happier at the Rock, away from Joffrey and with me and his new 'auntie'." At the last part he smiled at her again. But her smile wasn't so bright any more. He was right, Tommen would be better off without Joffrey around him

"A shame, indeed"

-##-

The wedding ceremony was long, boring and to Sansas relief uneventful. They had to stand the entire time. Joffrey put his Baratheon cloak around Margerys shoulders. They had originally planned to use a Lannister cloak but Tyrion put an end to it. Joffrey wasn't supposed to be a Lannister, he was a Baratheon and nobody should suspect Stannis was right with his accusations.

Back at the reception she had small talk with the guest during the time they waited for the feast to start. She knew Tyrion was happy she did it. He wasn't a very social being and she was good in it. The Tyrells had originally planned to follow the traditions of the Reach and have a little reception before the ceremony to make presents to bride and groom separate. But the Queen hadn't wanted it and nobody had stopped her by insulting the Tyrells. Tyrion could have had, but he had most likely found it funny that she would insult them with her arrogance.

The Queen of Thorns was at the reception too. She was as always accompanied by her ridiculous tall guards Left and Right. When she approached them Sansa thought she saw a hint of surprise appearing quickly on her face but it was gone before she was sure.

"A nice hairnet my Lady, beautiful stones" Olenna Tyrell said to her, passing her without another word. Sansa gazed at Tyrion who looked as clueless as she was, but a suspicion formed in her.

The feast was terrible stodgy, seventy-seven courses and seven bards. They were seated left of the pair, Sansa had changed seats with Tyrion to sit next to Tommen. She was nearer by the queen, but Cersei was too busy gazing at Margery to notice her. So she could talk with Tommen. The boy really was one of the sweetest kids she ever met and Tyrion was occupied with overlooking the feast, waiting if something would go wrong or talking with Ser Kevan about the administration of the realm. She didn't mind it; she had the entire evening with him and it was nice to talk to other than him or her Handmaiden or Lyda, Lord Myatt's wife, who was by the way a very nice associate.

During the performance of the fourth bard, Myatt discretely walked in and approached them. He whispered something in Tyrion's ear and he gestured him to leave. Tyrion looked at her, grinned and gazed to the Tyrells on the other side of the table. Did he catch Littlefinger? Did he talked? Were the Tyrells the accomplices? Her earlier thoughts about the Queen of Thorns came back in her mind. Tyrion stoop up and asked for the 'Rains of Castermere'.

_How funny, really?_

He toasted to the Tyrells when the bard started. Margaery's face looked slightly pale now, but Sansa knew it wouldn't happen something else. Maybe they suspected something, but not more.

When the bedding was announced they discretely retreated to their rooms. Sansa hadn't the slightest interest to disrobe Joffrey.

-##-

Back in their chambers they laid on the bed, Tyrion lay across and she placed herself so that her head rested on his chest and their bodies formed a cross. She just had to turn her head to the left to see in his face. He looked deep in thoughts. She wanted to ask him about Baelish but decided otherwise, there was time for this tomorrow. She turned on her belly and folded her hands beneath her chin, so they rested on his chest now. It was more comfortable to look him in the face by that way.

"Poor Margaery, now she has to endure the treatment I escaped" She really pitied her, and after Tyrions facial expression so did he. An idea or better an urge formed in her, thinking back at their wedding night. She crawled up to him, started to kiss him eagerly. "We never had our wedding night." His gaze was uncertain when he spoke:

"And do you want it … now?" His voice was soft and a bit fear was with his words. 'He fears my rejection' She didn't want to reject him, as a matter of fact she wanted him, wanted to be with him like husband and wife should.

Sansa smiled and nodded. A bright smile formed on his face and he softly guided her on her back. He trailed a line of kisses from her ear to her neck, slightly sucked at her flesh. It was an amazing feeling, moans escaped her throat and the pleasure grew. Tyrion started kissing her chest, and slowly undid the laces of her gown. She had her hands in his hair now, encouraging him to continue. He wanted to slide down the strap of her dress to free her breast.

A hammering at the door interrupted them and a voice screamed from the other side: "My Lord, My Lord!"

Tyrion let his head dropping on her chest and exhaled a sound of frustration.

* * *

**What do we say to the god of sex? Not today**

**I hope auntie is the right word, if not please correct me. Is Tommen sweet or what?**

**Review, please**


	13. Chapter 13

**And here I am again, thank you for your reviews, really thank you. I will continue this story until it's finished or you lost interest**

**Hard day but this chapter I was able to manage**

**Just a reminder, ****you**** could choose sword or poison**

**Revisited 08.05.2013**

**I own nothing**

* * *

Tyrion could have screamed in anger and frustration. Why? He and Sansa had just been making good for their wedding night and then that. He gazed up to her, still on top and gave her a forced smile. She looked at least as disappointed as he was and it gave him hope for more. It wasn't just a forced attempt to please him, she wanted him. He knew it already, but now he had even more evidence.

He slid the strap of her gown back on her shoulder and rose from the bed. He waited until she composed herself, bounded the laces of her gown and sat up, until he walked to the door and swung it open. Finally the knocks ceased and he gazed angry at the man on the other side. It was a soldier of him, the man looked exhilarated, squirrelly. What was now? Did dragons or a kraken attack?

"Speak man!" He didn't hide his anger and didn't care that he frightened the man with his tone.

"My Lord, the King is dead."

"What?" Tyrion was dumbfounded, Joffrey was dead. How? He looked back over his shoulder to Sansa, she sat bolt upright on their bed, looking like he felt. He had to be quick. He walked through the door to Pod, who waited in the front room.

"Give the signal!" He shouted at him. Pod was supposed to give the signal to secure the city, which was the reason he had waited and hadn't retired to his room that night. Pod was up to his feat in seconds and ran out of the rooms. He would light a torch on a nearby tower and Tyrion's men would know what to do. In the meanwhile Tyrion turned to Sansa again, approaching her fast to stand beside her. She looked nervous and uncertain, understandable by the situation, he didn't feel different.

"I must go, to see what happened, guards will be placed in front of the door if anything goes wrong. Remember, they are here to protect you not to lock you up. If you believe that you have to go somewhere take at least twenty of them with you, and promise me you are cautious." He wanted to calm her, take away her worries, even if it was just an attempt. He needed to keep a cool mind.

"I will be, I promise" Her voice wasn't as weak as he had feared and he was grateful for it, it would help keeping a cool mind, to know that she wouldn't be consumed by fear. He placed his hand on hers and gave it a quick tug of assurance before he left the room, ordering the soldier to bring him to his dead nephew.

-##-

Tyrion followed the man to the royal bedchamber, he was accompanied by twenty of his men. He had also left fifty with Sansa. He didn't want to make the same mistake he had made when his father had died and she had been worried the entire time.

Tyrion hadn't a clue what had happened, had anybody succeeded with poisoning Joffrey? Littlefinger couldn't be responsible, he was chained up to a wall in the dungeons. Myatt had succeeded and seized his ship. The 'Old Mate' was already with him, preparing him for his interrogation. Littlefinger had already admitted he had plotted with the Tyrells. Tyrion could somehow understand them. Sansa had told him about her meeting with them and what she had told them. They knew of Joffrey's character and had most likely planned to kill Joffrey and marry Margaery to Tommen in order to protect her. He maybe could forgive that, but they had also wanted to blame Sansa and this he wouldn't forgive. They would pay one way or another. They had wanted to take his wife from him, never. Myatt had associated himself to his group at half of the way. His Marshall looked tired, Tyrion could understand it too but Myatt was now his executor and he needed him near him and ready to do his duty.

The first thing he noticed when he arrived at the hall of Joffrey's chambers was the red coloured body of Meryn Trant. The member of the Kingsguard laid on his back, his belly split open, his hand on his sword. Whoever had killed him was quick.

Tyrion wasn't sorry for the man, this man had beaten Sansa bloody, his death wasn't a bad occasion. Tyrion had thought about ordering his death just a few days ago but had decided otherwise, he couldn't play the punisher. He had wanted to wait until Jaime would have returned and would have let him decide what kind of punishment his 'brother' deserved. Something he didn't have to bother anymore.

The sight in Joffrey's chambers was different. The King lied, half naked, on the floor in a pool of his own blood. Cersei above him holding her first born, crying and screaming. Tyrion felt the urge to approach her, to lie is hand on her shoulder and calm her down. She was his sister and he thought something like that would be expected, but he didn't know if it would be a good idea. They had never been close. The chambers looked like there had been a fight. A part of Margaery's wedding dress or underclothes laid on the floor obviously ripped apart and blood stained. What happened?

Uncle Kevan stood near the bed; he looked like he didn't know what to do either, so Tyrion approached him.

"What happened?" He actually didn't want to know but he had to.

"I don't know for sure but it looks like, Loras Tyrell killed him by piercing his sword in the Kings crotch. Afterwards he fled with Lady Margaery, or better the Queen." Kevan sounded sad, weak, another family member who had been killed these days. First Lancel who still was heavily wounded, than his son had been murdered in Robb Stark's captivity, his brother had died and now his nephew. Tyrion felt the same; too many Lannisters had died these days and not only the bad once.

"Not a very pleasant death, he most likely bled slowly out in horrible pain." Myatt whispered in his ear. He was right, Joffrey's death hadn't been very nice. No, it was the opposite. Tyrion pitied him, at least until the memories of his cruelty returned to him. He thought about it and maybe it was a blessing that he was dead.

Why had the Knight of the Flowers killed him and why had he taken his sister and left. Trant had most likely been standing in his way and had had to die for it. But what happened?

Cersei still hold her son's corpse and Tyrion didn't want to interrupt, so he turned to Kevan again.

"I ordered my men to secure the city; I think it is best until we know what happened. Myatt" He turned his head to his new second in command "I want you to make sure we find the siblings, bring Loras in a black cell, but only place guards you trust, in don't want him harmed. Bring Lady Margaery in her old chambers in the Maidentower; I don't want that anybody touch her. The other Tyrells are under arrest until we know more." With that Myatt was on his way.

"Tommen is King now" Kevan said to him

"Long live the King" Was the only thought he had at this.

-##-

It didn't take long to find the Tyrells, it wasn't their city and there were nowhere to hide. Tyrion was glad his men found them and not the gold cloaks or one of Cersei's few minions. The other Tyrells were in their chambers under his guard. Their men hadn't seen it coming and were unarmed now too. The Lannister had control over the city, nobody could deny it.

Tyrion stood in front of Margaery's chambers in the Maidentower. He hesitated to step in, not knowing what would await him. The guards didn't look like he would like what he would see. But he had to, he had to know why Joffrey was dead. The boy still lay on his floor in his own blood. Kevan had volunteered to stay with him and Cersei. His sister was shattered, her son was dead and Tyrion didn't know what to say to her, but maybe he could answer her why.

He carefully opened the door and stepped inside. But he wasn't ready for what he saw. Margaery was curled up in the corner, bruises all over her body, the girl was sobbing uncontrolled. Her undergarments were ripped apart, blood and tears streamed over her cheeks. He knew now what had happened. Joffrey, this monster of a human had done what he had always done. He most likely was responsible. He had enjoyed cruelty and this was the result. The Knight of the Flowers must have heard his sister's screams and had wanted to protect her.

Tyrion slowly approached the sobbing girl, but she pressed herself at the wall gazing at him in fear and when he saw her there, beaten to blood her image turned in his head and he saw Sansa, his Sansa, Joffrey's first victim. He didn't know any more what to feel, what to do. He called outside to bring a Maester, but not Pycelle before he turned back to the girl.

"I am sorry your Grace."

It maybe wasn't much but it was honest and the only thing he could give her.

-##-

Back in his chambers Tyrion first noticed that Sansas cloak was at a different position. Had she left the Room? Why?

She sat on the couch, waiting for him. She looked calmer than when he had left her. He walked to her and seated himself next to her, leaning his head at her shoulder. She smiled and put her arm around him.

"You were out Sansa?" he didn't want to interrogate her but he wanted to know where she had been. Her voice showed no signs of distress:

"After you left I thought about it and that your sister would most likely be occupied with Joffrey, so I went to Tommen. He after all lost his brother and I thought he needed some company, somebody else than the Kingsguard." Tyrion smiled, the realm broke apart around them, the King was murdered and she had gone out to calm down a little boy. She was so empathic, so good. Better than anybody he knew. He definitely loved this part of her. But now he was curious:

"And the Kingsguard let you just pass?" She exhaled a small laughter and gave him a small tug.

"They wanted to stop me, but I remind them who I am and that I would be in that room no matter what they said. The superiority of my guards was helpful too. And the men of the Kingsguard are mostly cowards. They didn't dare to stop me." Tyrion couldn't do anything else than grin at her words. Yes they were cowards, at least most of them. 'One wasn't a coward today.'

"How is he, I mean Tommen, or better how is the King?" Tommen was King now, what a lot, the poor boy. He was punished with Cersei as mother and Joffrey as brother, always neglected by her and his father. But maybe it was good for him? Either way Tyrion loved the boy as much as he loved Myrcella. They were sweet children, never judging him. They were Jaime's children, Myrcella even more than Tommen and he hoped they would be fine.

"He is confused, I'm not sure if he understands what happened or what it means for him" Sansa brought him back from his musing. Yes, Tommen couldn't know, not of the duties he had now and how his life would change. Tyrion also had to think about what Myrcella's presence in Dorne meant for them. In Dorne always count dornish law, so for them Myrcella would be Queen now, they could rise in rebellion for her. The red viper certainly would do so, but with luck Prince Doran Martell wouldn't be so reckless to start another civil war. He regretted to send Myrcella to Dorne now; he had never intended to make her a target or puppet for them. It had been the best he could do back at his first term as Hand, he had never wished for the siblings to fight against each other.

"What happened?" Sansa startled him out of his thoughts again. She deserved to know, she had to know, because he needed her advice.

"Loras Tyrell killed Joffrey when he started to treat Margery like he treated you" He looked up to her but her face was a mask, she stiffened a bit. Tyrion didn't want to cause her discomfort but he had to continue."He killed Ser Meryn Trant and wanted to flee the city with his sister, but not before he jerked his sword beneath Joffreys legs and let him bleed to death." He spared her the other details of Joffrey's death and Margaery's condition, she had seen enough in her life and he didn't want to bring back some memories. "They didn't make it far, my men were good, the city was bolted in moments and we capture them. I saw Margaery, Joffrey beat her bloody. Loras is in a black cell, their family locked in their chambers." He paused, wanted her to process the information before he continued. "What should I do now?" He really hadn't a clue and hoped she could help him "Joffrey was King after all and my nephew. But it would mean war if I execute Loras. The Tyrells would fight. He just protected his sister. And Loras wouldn't be the first pardoned Kingslayer." He was sure he had to punish the Tyrell boy, and so he didn't sound persuaded. "My choices are to let it go and Cersei will rage and I would be seen weak, what could lead to a war with Dorne after all or I make the Tyrells our mortal enemies and this war never stops." He was desperate searching a solution to their problem. He knew his father would be hard, and would start a bloodbath, but could he do the same?

Sansa locked down at him, her face showed that she wasn't sure but then she talked.

"Maybe you find a middle ground" Was there a middle ground?

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**I hope Joffrey's death pleased you, I think it was appropriate**

**Poison would had a different outcome but this will have interesting results in the next chapters**

**Please review**


	14. Chapter 14

**Hard day, but here I am, thanks for the feedback**

**This chapter let me doubt that I will be able to preserve my reputation as cold blooded bastard**

**Maybe I have to kill someone ;)**

**4-5 Chapters left and the first part of the story is finished**

**Revisited 08.05.2013**

**I own nothing**

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Sansa stood in front of Margaery's door in the Maidentower. She needed some time to compose herself. She wanted to enter, to talk to her. But had she the right? Her husband had imprisoned her, Joffrey had beaten her. Was she even ready for what would wait behind the door? A glimpse on the faith she had escaped. But Margaery needed someone, like she had needed someone back then, when Joffrey had beaten her, so she collected her strength and opened the door.

She wasn't ready for what she saw. Margery sat on her bed, her brown hair still encrusted with blood and her skin was green and blue. Margaery had refused to see anybody and so she gazed at her in surprise. She pulled the blanked up to her chin in an attempt to hide her body. Was it shame? Why should she be ashamed in front of her?

Sansa slowly approached her, she knew how she felt, she had felt the same after her beating. But there was a main difference, she had had hope, her brother had still won his battles and there had been a chance for her, a chance to escape. There was a hope for Margery too, she just didn't know it yet. For now, all she knew was that her brother was in a black cell and the rest of her family arrested, their men disabled.

On her way to Margaery Sansa took a cup with water from the table and sat beside her, offering the older girl the cup. She hoped she could help her. Sansa gave Margaery what she hoped was a reassuring smile, still waiting for her to take the cup. Margaery didn't move, she gazed up and down Sansa, uncertain and suspicious. Sansa didn't mind, she remembered her behaviour after her beating, how she had rejected Tyrion's help. She felt suddenly stupid, he had offered her help and she hadn't trusted him, he was a Lannister, that had been her only reason back then, but it wasn't the time now to think about it. Margery was more important right now.

"The water isn't poisoned, you know" She kept her voice calming, not wanting to terrify her. Margery slowly let her guard down and took the offered water. When the blanked fell Sansa was able see what Joffrey had done to her. She still wore her ripped apart underclothes. Her body was blotched with small wounds and her skin was covered with bruises, she was dirty, most likely from her escape. Joffrey had been a monster, more than even she had thought. She had never imagined he would dare something like that during their wedding night, with Margaery's brother at the other side of the door. After the bedding he had most likely started his cruel game until her screams had reached her brother who had tried to rescue her. He had succeeded, at least partial.

Sansa laid her hand of Margerys shoulder, carefully not to startle her with the touch, Margaery looked like an animal in a cage fearing the butcher.

"Easy, I am not here to do anything against you, I know how you feel, I felt the same and I thought maybe I could help you" Margery gazed at her:

"You, me, why?" Her tone showed a hint of mockery and Sansa knew why.

"You mean why I help you although you and your family tried to use me to poison Joffrey?" Sansa asked her with a small smile. She didn't hold it against her, maybe it would have been better if they had succeeded, Margaery wouldn't have endured this. But there was no use in whining over the past. At the moment everything she wanted to do was helping Margaery. She might not be her friend but Sansa empathized with her.

There had been a time she had thought they would be friends, back then when she had wanted to marry Willas, but it had just been an act, they had wanted her claim, her knowledge about Joffrey not her. They had wanted to lull her. They had showed their true face during her wedding, standing at the side, pretending not to know her. But this didn't matter anymore too.

"We never wanted to hurt you" It seemed Margery found her voice back during her thoughts.

"I know, but next time" she tightened her grip on her shoulder a bit and smiled a bit brighter "search a better ally than Littlefinger, yes?" She was glad to see that a small smile appeared on Margerys face, even if she averted her eyes like she was in shame. "You should take a bath, and a Maester should attend to your wounds, may I call a Handmaid or two?" Sansa remembered how helpful the hot bath had been and Margaery's wounds had to be cleaned or they would be infected in a few days. "Everything will be all right, I promise" Margaery's façade fell, she began to sob wildly and leaned against Sansa when her tears started to roll over her cheeks.

Sansa personally attended to clean her wounds with a moist cloth during the time the Handmaiden needed to pour her a bath. She was in a much worst condition than it had looked like. Sansa was careful but Margaery still winced at every touch. Margaery was silent the entire procedure, she only exhaled a light gasp when Sansa removed her clothes. But she didn't resist. Sansa offered her to call for her cousins to help her.

"But they are under arrest in their chambers, the Hand wouldn't allow" Margery said in a weak tone until Sansa held up her hand to silence her

"And who am I? If I order the guards to bring them here, who would defy me?" She knew Tyrion wouldn't mind if she helped Margaery by calling for her cousins, he had a much better heart than he wanted to admit. "So? Should I?" Margaery was a bit taken aback by her speech.

"No, I don't want to see them" She answered her, gazing absently at the wall. Sansa assumed she didn't want to let them see how badly wounded she was. Nobody liked it to be seen so weak, broken, Sansa could understand that.

After the bath was ready she helped Margaery to get inside, the hot water would help. She wanted to send the Handmaiden away to give her some more privacy but suddenly though of something else, Margaery hadn't ate since yesterday and it looked like she had only drunken the water Sansa had given her. But she had to eat in order to regain her strength.

"What do you want to eat?" she asked her, gesturing the Handmaiden to pay attention

"I'm not hungry" Margaery sat in the tub and let her hands absently shivering over the water, glancing on her bruised body.

"Nonsense, you need to eat, so what?" Sansa found that she sounded like her mother. This realisation gave her a pang in her heart, she missed her, but she knew she would see her again, a certainty she hadn't for a long time. "I won't accept a no." But now she had to be stern with Margaery, she shouldn't be alone, somebody should take care of her, Sansa had been alone and she didn't wish Margaery would. If they would be nobody she would drive in the darkness. When did she start to become so? So mature? She was just a maid of two and ten but she acted like a grown woman. Maybe it was her time in King's Landing which had turned her to who she was now. She felt she had to be so, acting like a woman rather than a child in order to survive. But recently there had been moments she had been a child again, the moments when she was alone with Tyrion and joking around.

"Lemon cakes and milk" Margaery finally answered to her question, she still looked absent but Sansa was happy to get at least a bit out of her. She had to smile at her choice, she also loved lemon cakes, since she had been a little child. They always cheered her up and it meant she had more in common with Margery than she thought, and now it wasn't all bad.

She ordered the Handmaiden to fetch a plate of lemon cakes and milk, she also discretely demanded milk of the poppy and dreamwine.

After the Handmaiden left Sansa slit on the floor and leaned against the tub, facing the wall. She would have an eye on Margaery but didn't want to push her to do anything. It took a while until Margaery started to speak, her voice was still weak but it seemed she composed herself a bit.

"How did you survived it, I mean all of this?" Sansa wasn't sure how to answer, she had just done it, she had suffered and had cried, had hid behind her courtesies hoping for a miracle. But what could she tell her?

"I did what I had to do in order to survive. But I got lucky because it turned out that there was somebody to rescue me."

"You mean your husband?" Yes she meant him, Tyrion had saved her when he had decided to marry her, he had positioned himself between her and his family, like a shield. It had started rough with him but it had turned out to be so much more. "Yes I meant him. Do you know he refused to marry me first, so Lord Tywin wanted to marry me to Gregor Clegane?" A splash of water told Sansa that Margaery was surprised. Sansa still didn't face her, she just sat there and talked, like she would address the wall. "I overheard him talking to the Queen. I was scared beyond imagination and didn't know what to do. But then I had an idea, I know I wouldn't survive long as Clegane's wife so I asked, no begged Tyrion to marry me. And he did." Her voice was slow, but she decided it would be the best to share her story with Margaery. "The first days were really unpleasant; I didn't want to talk to him, turned away from him, from his scar. But he understood and gave me time. It was when Joffrey cornered me, wanting to play one of his cruel games again when he rescued me a second time. Since then everything is getting better. I can't understand now why I didn't trust him, or not wanted to be with him. I start to feel lonely if he isn't around me, just for a few hours. And I want to believe he feels the same" Sansa just told Margaery what she felt, hoping it would help her.

"Do you love him?" Margaery sounded curious, but also like she hoped for a reassurance. A reassurance there was something like love in the world, something Sansa doubted only weeks ago.

Did she love Tyrion? Sansa had to think about it. She remembered how she felt around him, how she wanted to be with him all the time of the day. She loved their games of Cyvasse and their discussions. How his eyes looked like and how she stroked his hair to calm him down. She felt complete around him, like she was supposed to be a part of him and he was a part of her. She remembered what fun they had, how she liked his humour and how he taunted his sister. Even the members of his family she liked, like Tommen and Myrcella. His gestures, like the gown or a book with stories he had found for her. Also what he had done for her, he had made sure Robb and her mother wouldn't die even if it meant he wouldn't rule Winterfell. It showed he cared for her. She knew he did it for her, she was better in reading him than he thought. And she remembered how he always shared his thoughts with her, came to her with his problems, involving her in everything and seeking her council and she did the same with him. And there was this warm feeling in her belly, like butterflies, last night when they had kissed, it was always there when they kissed. But last night it had been stronger she had wanted him so badly, had wanted his touch, not because of the touch, no, because it was Tyrion who had been with her. He was who she wanted to be with, nobody else. Was this love, it sounded like love.

She noticed Margaery gazed at her the whole time, over the edge of the tub. She deserved the answer and now, Sansa was sure she had the right one.

"Yes, I love him"

After the Handmaidens were back they helped Sansa to get Margery out of the tub and with fresh clothes back in the bed. Sansa seated herself besides her and put the plate with cakes between them. Margaery looked better now, still horrible beaten but better. They ate the lemon cakes and drunk the milk, it was more like two girls having a sleepover. Sansa made her talk about Highgarden and her childhood. She regretted it instantly because it would lead to Loras and would cause her sorrow.

"He will die, won't he? He did nothing wrong, only protected me" Margaery asked and started to sob again. Sansa laid her arm around her and squeezed her. She knew Margaery was intelligent; she most likely came after her Grandmother, the Queen of Thorns. Sansa thought of her as a potentially good Queen with an understanding for politics she hadn't when she had arrived in King's Landing. So she decided to tell her about what Tyrion and she had talked about last night. What kind of plan they had developed and what it would mean for her, although she hadn't to explain that, Margaery understand what she intended to say and she ended up finishing Sansa's sentences. She started to smile and finally she embraced her like a good friend or a sister, thankfully. Sansa was happy to give her back some joy and more important Margery had hope again, even if it depends on if her family would make the right decision when Tyrion offer them the deal. But he was persuading and Sansa had no doubt he would succeed. In the afternoon Sansa and Margery ended up with telling stories of their childhood and gossiping about Queen Cersei. Sansa was certain she found a friend.

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**I hope you liked it**

**Margery had a rough time, very traumatic, please don't hate me for making her so**

**It started to be a real problem that Sansa is just 12, nearly 13, now I know how GRRM feels**

**I actually didn't get much done today maybe there is a pause tomorrow but I try to make the update happen**

**Please review**


	15. Chapter 15

**A little late but I did it.**

**Thanks for the reviews; they motivate me to write today**

**This and the last chapter are results of the vote sword, poison would have been different**

**But I somehow be behind in Tyrion's story, maybe there will be two Tyrion chapters soon**

**Revisited 09.05.2013**

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Tyrion stood in front of the door to the council room. The Tyrells waited on the other side, he had ordered his men to bring them here, so they could talk. Joffrey's death still laid on the castle like a grudge and to avoid further problems he had extended the arrest to everybody who wasn't part of the royal family or one of his men. The Tyrell soldiers were arrested in the yards of the keep. But he had received a raven this morning that Randyll Tarly and his army were on their way from Maidenpool to the city. Tyrion didn't want a new siege so this had to work. He and Sansa had worked the whole night on the plan; it hopefully would be acceptable for the Tyrells.

But on the other hand they were in his power and could end on the block so he had an advantage. Cersei was a different card; he had to persuade her too. Her greed for revenge was understandable but unfavourable for the plan and even more important for Tommen. But he had time until tomorrow for that, he would let her in her sorrow for another day and tomorrow during dinner with her, Kevan and Tommen he would explain her what she had to do, Sansa would be there too. A nice 'family dinner', he didn't want to burden her with Cersei but he was afraid he needed her support. Hopefully he could talk sense into Cersei.

He had actually planned to interrogate Littlefinger this morning, but Joffrey's death changed all his plans. He had to put this aside for as long as he needed to secure peace, but he would get to him later.

He finally opened the door, and stepped inside, gesturing his guards to wait outside. He didn't want too many ears in the room. Mace Tyrell sat at the table, his mother Olenna, the infamous Queen of Thorns to his right and his son Garlan sat left of him. All three looked worried and also angry. Lord Garlan wanted to rise but his grandmother gesturing him not to. Tyrion smiled and seated himself opposite to them at the table and fetched himself a cup of wine, he took on a stern expression, leaning in his chair and started to drink. The Tyrells gazed uncertain at him obviously waiting for him to make the first move.

"How is my sister?" Lord Garlan broke the silence, concern in his voice and gazed begging at Tyrion.

"She is alive and in the Maidentower" Tyrion wanted to sound calming but also stern, he wasn't their friend and they should know that. "Her condition on the other hand is in question, but my wife will attend to her, making sure she has everything she need." Yes Sansa had wanted to go to Margaery, she had experienced the same and wanted to help the girl. Tyrion still was amazed by her empathy, the Tyrells had wanted to use her to kill Joffrey, blame her and she was ready to leave this beside to help Margaery. Yes she even wanted to forgive them. Something Tyrion wasn't ready to, yet. They had put Sansa in great danger, plotting with Littlefinger; neither could nor wanted Tyrion to forgive them.

But his personal feelings didn't matter now, it mattered what was best for the realm and even more important for Tommen, than he was King now.

"No harm will come to her, my word." His words seemed to release some of their tension. So he started with his speech.

"Your son killed the King." He spoke more of a fact than an accusation. Mace Tyrell wanted to open his mouth but his mother laid a hand on his arm to silence him. Tyrion knew he had to talk to her, she was the real power behind the Tyrells and perhaps she had the sense to follow his argumentation.

"He killed the King during his wedding night and fled with the new Queen. I personally won't hold it against him, but what he did was unacceptable." He waited for a reply, maybe something about Jaime and the Mad King but they kept their mouth shut and so he continued: "But if this wouldn't be enough, you planed to poison the King at his own wedding, using my wife as scapegoat, something I would gladly kill you all for."

Now there were the shocks in their faces. They maybe suspected he knew but now they could be sure.

"This is a very serious accusation, My Lord Hand" Olenna Tyrell told him, visually trying to compose herself "Did you have any evidence to doubt our loyalty?" She was afraid, good.

"Your accomplice sang like a bird, he is my guest down in the dungeons." Tyrion grinned and pointed with his finger at the floor. "Did you really assume Littlefinger would be a trustful ally?" He couldn't hide a grin and exhaled a small laugh in his cup.

"Words of a notorious liar, nothing you could use against us." Mace Tyrell's voice trembled, something that destroyed the effect of his played outrage.

"Oh, my Lord I beg differ, but this is not why I'm here"

"You are not?" The Queen of Thorns silenced her son again, curiosity in her eyes.

"I could send you all to your death, but there wouldn't any use in that. I'm not as bloodthirsty as my father or nephew" He told them nonchalant "I want peace and your deaths wouldn't bring it, only more war. I also actually didn't want to punish your son for protecting his sister, it is something I can understand, something I had done too" But not for Cersei.

"What do you suggest?" Olenna Tyrell asked him curiously, hope blinking in her eyes. She leaned a bit to him, her gaze fixed at him.

"We have to make a consensus in order to regain peace. I wish that we continue our alliance. The Ironborn and Stannis aren't defeated yet. I would hate to lose your support." Tyrion made a little pause. "My offer is, that Lady Margaery will become Queen, Tommen's Queen" He smiled again and continued before they had a chance to interrupt him. "I suspect this was your plan after all. Tommen is not Joffrey. You will receive the honours members of the royal family deserve and the heir to the throne will have Tyrell blood. We will declare that Margery is still a maid, after what I saw it's most likely true. And we will continue to work together for the good of the realm" He didn't hide his sarcastic tone by the last sentences. Mace Tyrell looked very pleased, his mother and son on the other hand. But he hadn't finish "I will pretend you never tried to take advantage of my wife, I will forswear my revenge, but be aware, I won't forget it." That were very good conditions, better than any they could have expected, but there would be a price, there was always a price. Mace Tyrell didn't seem to know that; yes he was just an ambitious fool, nothing more. But Olenna Tyrell and Garlan weren't so stupid.

"And what is the price for your 'gracious' offer?" Lord Garlan asked, not really friendly, by the way. Tyrion had waited for the question, it was the greatest problem, to find a middle ground the Tyrells and he could accept without losing faces. Sansa and he had discussed it all night, played the different scenarios until they had found something that could work.

Tyrion slowly inhaled and started to speak: "Yes, there is a price, there is always a price. First, your men will leave the city, except for a Household Guard of course, second you will lose your council seats in exception of one, Lord Garlan's" He gestured to the young man, may he have this position. "You, Lord Tyrell, and your mother will also leave the city. And from now on all the plotting will end," He made this clear with his deadliest gaze "only a whiff of treason and this deal is over. Your men will fight for Tommen and his Queen. If he dies at something else than old age, this deal is over. The fate of the Reyne's will be nothing compared with the terror you will experience if you betray me." He put his entire sinister pallet in his threat.

The Tyrells looked a bit taken aback but willing to consent, but the worst was yet to come. "This deal is offered by me, not my sister, she will demand you deaths. I will make sure she won't get what she wants, but it will take a lot of effort on my side. You will be in my debt, and I am a man who collects his debts. I won't be able to depose my sister so you have to live with her. Plot with her, or against I don't care, but if anything happen to Tommen, you know." He didn't want Cersei dead, but he also hated it that he wasn't able to get rid of her; it would be good for Tommen, for the realm. He could force her to marry, like his father had planned, but Jaime would never forgive him, maybe he would be able to control her when he returned. "Something else, it will be the hardest to take. Ser Loras killed the King, my nephew, he must be punished. I demand that he take the black, joins the Night's Watch." Tyrion wasn't sure if they would accept this, he hoped they would. Mace Tyrell was the first with anger in his face

"My son under the scum of the realm, never" Tyrell hammered at the table. Tyrion was ready for that argument, he didn't agree, Joren and Mormont and Jon Snow certainly weren't the scum of the realm.

"It is an honour to serve in the Night's Watch, protecting the realm..."

"...From Grumpkins and Snarks, are you kidding me Im..." Mace Tyrell shouted until his mother stopped him again a painful expression in her face. She obviously knew there was no other way but she tried it any way.

"Is there no other way, I agree serving in the Nightwatch is a honour, but Loras is a tender boy who won't be well in the North, the clime isn't good for such like him, and didn't your brother killed a King and is still a member of the Kingsguard?" Tender? Tyrion remembered Joffreys corpse. He understood, she wanted somebody of her own in the Kingsguard. But he never could sell that to Cersei.

"My brother slew a King whose family lose the claim and was pardoned by the winner; you are certainly not the winners. But to calm your worries you will be allowed to appoint two new members to the Kingsguard, to fill the places of Trant and Ser Loras, if the Lordcommander consent." They knew there was no other way; Tyrion could read it in their faces. "Think about it, and let me know how you decided, but hurry up" He gave them a small nod and left the room.

-##-

On the way to his solar, suddenly Lord Varys, the spider appeared in a corner. His guards wanted to seize him, but Tyrion gestured them not to and signalled Varys with a wave of his arm to accompany him. He wanted to know what the man wanted and how he had been able to leave his chambers.

The fat man in his purple tunic, perfumed like a whore followed him. "I must offer my condolence for the lost of your nephew, he will be remembered" 'Yes that is for sure' The voice of the eunuch was like honey; "I also must congratulate my Lord Hand for the wise offer you made the Tyrells. It will certainly secure the peace. And the poor widow might find happiness with the new King."

So, he knew. Tyrion stopped to wonder like a long time ago, the man knew everything to all times, but still it bothers him.

"Should I first ask why you know what I offered them just moments ago in secret" He accented the last word with a bit of faked anger "or how you were able to leave your rooms?" He knew Varys knew every little passage in the Keep. If knowledge is power Varys certainly had the most.

"You know, little spiders always find their ways" Varys replied. 'Yes that's for sure'

"Some of these spiders get scrunch by a boot. Maybe I should scrunch you." Sooner or later Tyrion had to find out the motive of the man and maybe even had to fight him. He liked him so he didn't want to, but you can't always get what you want.

"I'm afraid you wouldn't like the outcome. Spiders are mostly useful creature, not nice to look at but useful. Especially when they capture other, more tedious insects in their nets." Oh, now they came to the point.

"Yes, but if they failed, what are they then?" Varys hadn't known of Littlefingers plan or he had let it happen, either way it wasn't acceptable for Tyrion.

"Some of these creatures are larger than other some are even to large for the spiders, their natural enemy, like the Mockingbird for example." So, now he had him, the Mockingbird was Littlefinger's crest.

"You mean the Mockingbird is to powerful for the spiders?" Tyrion asked mocking.

"Oh no My Lord, there are spiders capable of killing such a creature like the Mockingbird, but it take time, patience. And spiders have to wait until their prey comes to them, not like lions who hunt their meals." Varys smiled at him, Tyrion still hadn't an answer but that could wait.

-##-

Later that day the Tyrells sent a note, they consented. Tyrion was relieved, now he had to persuade Cersei, but luckily he wasn't alone Sansa would help him. This would be an interesting dinner.

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**I love the Varys conversation, hoping it is foreshadowing for the real story**

**Please give me your opinions**

**Review, I need that right now**


	16. Chapter 16

**This was hard again, I'm a bit lost**

**I tried to write the chapter for tomorrow but stuck, I need your help, chare your energy with me and review**

**I now I'm a review whore but please, the first part of the story is supposed to be ready on Sunday and then it will be the Rock, so come on**

**PS thanks to them who reviewed**

**Revisited 09.05.2013**

**I own nothing**

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"Are you kidding me, they are traitors. I demand their heads" the Queen raged.

This 'family dinner' didn't turn out as well as planned. Tyrion and Kevan were calm, trying to reason with Cersei but Tommen looked frightened. Well, Sansa hadn't expected it would go easy. After she had left Margaery the other day she had gone to Tyrion's and her chambers to supper with him. He had gladly told her that the Tyrells had consented and Margaery would marry Tommen. All in all a win win situation, there would be no more war and the seven Kingdoms would get a worthy Queen.

It also meant that Tyrion still was in command of the Tyrell soldiers. This had given him the opportunity to send a raven to Randyll Tarly and order him to bring his men north to Moat Cailin. Tyrion had explained her Tarly would wait to join forces with Robb after they talked at the Rock and he would help him retake the North from the Ironborn. Meanwhile he would use the Lannister fleet to attack the Iron Islands. After the Ironborn were defeated there would be peace, finally.

Another advantage of the plan was that her mother could stay with her at the Rock until Robb retook the North. Maybe she would stay even longer. Sansa missed her and hoped it wouldn't take long until she would see her again. Tyrion and she would live at Casterly Rock, peacefully and without any trouble. It will be so wonderful.

The only problem left was the Queen; until she consented there would be no deal, no peace. Tarly would disobey and attack the city; so many would die and the cataclysm would tore the Kingdoms farther apart until they would destroy themselves.

Tyrion's greatest fear was that the Martells would crone Myrcella, they would use her against Tommen and a sibling war would be inevitable. Sansa shared that fear; siblings shouldn't fight against each other.

To persuade the Queen Tyrion and she had worked all night on a strategy and enough arguments to convince her. "If she doesn't agree I will just threat to leave the city with my men and let her alone" Tyrion had told her frustrated after a few hours.

"I'm not sure if this would be wise. You letting her behind, and think about Tommen" She had given back to him and it had convinced him.

Sansa had left him alone after they had finished, she had gone to Margaery, she had wanted to bring her the good news that everything most likely would be all right. The older girl had certainly been better than at the morning and had embraced Sansa in blatant joy at the news. Margaery and Sansa had spent some time with twittering until Sansa had noticed it had been after sundown. Back at her chambers she had found Tyrion already asleep, tired by the long day. He had looked so peaceful and Sansa hadn't wanted to wake him. She had actually planned to continue what they had started the night of Joffrey's death, but that apparently had to wait some time.

In the morning they had gone over their arguments again and had made themselves ready to face the Queen. Ser Kevan had joined them to assist, it was necessary.

"My son is dead, the KING is dead and you want to make a deal with his murderers? I should throw you in the dungeon as a traitor as well." Cersei didn't stop and her voice started to jump. She didn't know of the Tyrell Littlefinger plot and Tyrion wouldn't let her in his knowledge, but still she demanded all Tyrells dead, this was insane.

"The murder will be punished; Loras Tyrell will spend his days at the Wall…" Tyrion started but was interrupted by his sister's screams:

"The Wall, he is not a simple thief, no, his head must roll, like the head of this little bitch."

"Did you see what your son did to Lady Margaery? She isn't responsible and if I kill Loras, Tarly will sack the city" Tyrions expressions were like stone but his voice didn't hide is anger. "Do you want that, all of us killed?"

Tommen just curled further up in his chair; he obviously didn't like the conversation. Sansa laid her hand on his arm and gave him a light tuck to calm him. She gave him a reassuring smile and was glad to see him relaxing, at least a bit. Cersei on the other hand didn't stop.

"Joffrey did nothing, it was most likely Tyrell himself, and it is nothing compared with what I endured with Robert" Sansa didn't really know what she meant, she knew of the old King's whores, but this? He had been the friend of her father; she couldn't imagine him as a friend of somebody like Joffrey.

"Your son was not as 'good' as you imagine him, dear sister and this isn't negotiable." Tyrion began on of their arguments of last night "Also it is most likely the only way to punish him at all, if we accuse him he will demand trial by combat and with Jaime out of the city he will win."

"Nothing what I planned to give him..." The Queen replied but was interrupted by her uncle who finally spoke, lifting his hand.

"But something you have to grant him, the same would be for all Tyrells. It is the best way Cersei" The Queen still didn't look very happy but at least she gestured that she would agree with this part. Sansa and Tyrion exhaled both simultaneous. But the hardest part was yet in front of them.

"You also agree about the rest of the deal with the Tyrells?" Tyrion cautiously asked.

"You mean the council seat. Yes he can have it but I won't consent to the marriage" Cersei sounded final, this wasn't good.

"It is a crucial part of the deal, you can't just say no." Tyrion tried to argue again.

"The girl is ten years older than Tommen, she won't marry him"

"But I want to, I like her" Tommens small voice made itself heard. He was such a sweet kid. Tommen and Margery would be good together, even with the age different, Sansa thought. Tyrion after all was nine years older than her and it worked. Tommen's way made Sansa smile; Tyrion followed her example and even Kevan looked a bit amused. Cersei on the other hand looked like she would try to eat him alive and if gazed could kill, she would have extinguished a city.

But Tyrion spoke before she could continue. "It is the best way to seal the alliance and show our enemies that we are still allies. The Tyrells won't hurt him; I will make sure of that. Cersei you have nothing to fear and you actually don't have a choice" Cersei still wanted to eat her brother that was for sure so Sansa decided to add their emergency argument.

"And there is still the possibility of an annulment." She acted a little thick, like it was the improvident commentary of a stupid girl. Cersei always thought she was thick. Sansa had decided it would be good to be underestimated by her; it gave her an advantage and lured her in a false sense of security. It could even be funny like in front of the Sept two days ago. Even without own men and the little bit of power Cersei had at the moment the Queen was still dangerous, and the only one Sansa played that way.

"Maybe you are right little dove, it would be like your marriage" This hurt, Cersei had hit the spot and Sansa needed her willpower not to spat back or let her know she had hurt her. She just took Tyrion's hand and smiled friendly at the Queen. Yes their marriage was unconsumed but not because they didn't want it, something just had always interrupted them. But not this evening Sansa declared to herself. Even if the next long night would come above them she wouldn't be a maid tomorrow.

"Well, it looks like I have no choice" The Queen said with a bit of resignation in her voice. "I will be in the Sept, praying for my son." With these words Queen Cersei rose from her seat and marched out of the room into the castle Sept, where Joffrey laid.

They had done it, they had convinced her. Sansa could see the alleviation on everybody's face, Tyrion and Kevan because they had succeeded and Tommen because he could marry Margaery. For him it most likely was like getting a new sister or something like that, he didn't understand what it really meant.

"Well, that worked better than expected" Tyrion said and stretched himself in his chair.

"Yes it did" Sansa agreed. She leaned back in her chair and felt herself relaxing.

Suddenly she felt a tuck at her sleeve. When she looked to her right it was Tommen who gazed at her with big eyes. Sansa smiled at him and gave him a questioning look; he wanted to ask her something that was for sure.

"Auntie, I am King now, right?"

"Yes, you are your grace" The boy gave her a smile

"Can I sit on the throne then?" It was such an innocent question that Sansa had to smile again, Tommen was a fountain of good, she was certain he could be a good King. Sansa gave Tyrion a quick gaze and turned to Tommen again.

"Of course you can, may I accompany you, your grace?" Tommen nodded and so she rose and took his hand, guiding him out of the room, after giving Tyrion and Kevan a small nod, letting them alone with the work they had now. Tyrion would work until sundown, prepare everything but he would be with her again soon.

-##-

Sansa wandered through the halls of the Red Keep with Tommen at her hand. The few servants and members of the court who weren't arrested bowed their heads at their sight. Tommen walked besides her with a bright smile on his face. They were accompanied by two members of the Kingsguard, Ser Balon Swann and Ser Boros Blount.

Sansa remembered Ser Boros hits and after she had seen him she gave him a grin she copied from Tyrion, it had made him pale. He still looked a bit contrite and was very quiet. He had been one of the Kingsguard members who hadn't hesitated to hit her and he was most likely afraid she would have her revenge now. They were also accompanied by at least twenty Lannister guards, Tyrion had insisted, and if she had wanted they would throw Ser Boros from the next tower without hesitation too.

But Sansa was never revengeful and had never wanted the death of someone, except of Joffrey. She wasn't able to give such an order and she had to admit his constant fear amused her. Maybe it was a sort of punishment too. And maybe Ser Jaime would take his coat and dishonour him when he returned.

-##-

Arrived at the throne room Sansa helped Tommen to get on the Iron Throne, she was careful so he wouldn't cut himself at the sharp swords. Tommen didn't look happy about his new seat.

"It is uncomfortable, I didn't like it."

"Aegon the conqueror thought a throne has to be uncomfortable your grace, you will get use to it." She encouraged him

"What will I be able to do?" Sansa thought a moment about the question and answered

"Everything you want. You can be like Jaehaerys the Conciliator or Baelor the Beloved or Daeron the Good" Sansa consciously only named the best of the old Kings, nobody like Joffrey or Maegor the cruel.

"And how do I do that?" Sansa lowered her head to look him in the eyes with a smile but her voice was stern.

"Ruling is a duty not a right, my father always said that, follow this and be honourable and you will be a great King." Tommen smiled and nodded

"I will auntie" Sansa laughed, yes he would, hopefully.

She spent some time with him, watching him not to cut himself before she sent him to his studies. He after all was just a kid and had to learn, King or not, that was what she told him.

-##-

It was late in the afternoon and she wandered back to her chambers, she wanted to bath and change. This was supposed to be the day she wanted to finally consume her marriage, and she wanted it to be perfect. But in front of her chamber waited a tall man with straw coloured hair, wearing an armour, she never saw before. Her guard quick positioned themselves between her and the stranger. He showed his hand and approached her slowly.

Sansa was surprising to notice it was no man, it was a woman. But with a very unfeminine appearance, she was very tall more than six feet, muscular, flat-chested and ungainly. Her face was covered in freckles and her teeth were prominent and crooked. But she had very nice blue eyes.

"My Lady" The woman bowed "I am Brienne of Tarth, Your mother sent me."

Sansa let the guards wait outside and invited the woman into her chambers. Her mother had sent her and she wanted to know why.

"You said my mother sent you? Why?" The woman looked like she searched for words.

"She sent me with Ser Jaime to bring you back" Ser Jaime was back? "I am suppose to escort you back to her, away from your captors and your imp husband" 'Imp husband' Sansa wasn't pleased about this insult.

"My Lady I certainly don't need your help" Her voice made her indignation clear.

"I am no Lady." The woman started confused. "Your mother sent me, these evil persons can't hold you captive, I will protect you even from the imp who certainly isn't a nice man. If he raped you or hit you is from no importance any more. I will bring you away, protect you."

Anger rose in Sansa, how could these 'person' dare to accuse Tyrion of such crimes? She didn't want to hear more, she was about to explode in rage. How could she dare, Tyrion would never do so.

"Out!" She spat and pointed at the door. The giant women looked surprised at her reaction, she obviously wasn't aware of what happened

"But my Lady, you mother"

"I said OUT! I will see my mother again, because my husband who loves me and who I love will bring me to her. How dare you to accuse him of such crimes? Who are you?" She was about losing control "OUT!"

The door opened and the guards, allured by her screams gazed inside, hands at their swords. The women looked like she thought about to fight but then she gazed confused at Sansa, bowed her head and left. Sansa let herself fell on the bed angry with this woman, who was she anyway?

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**Poor Brienne, but she always was a little thick**

**Please review and give me your opinions on how the plot is**

**Blount is on my list too, I hate guys who hit girls, they are just despicable**


	17. Chapter 17

**I did it! It is 03:40 AM in Germany right now but it did it**

**Thanks for your support, maybe I won't be able to update tomorrow, my sister will move and I must help, but this chapter is a bit longer**

**Something else, in the last part of the chapter a magical fairy appears and Sansa is of age for the rest**

**Revisited 09.05.2013**

**I own nothing**

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After Sansa and Tommen had left the room Tyrion exhaled and leaned back in his chair. This had worked better than he expected, Cersei had even been reasonable. He had expected she would rage like a dragon and order the Kingsguard to arrest him. But now they had a chance, and it was a good one.

He wanted to rise and walk to the tower of the Hand for the preparations for the coming days, when he noticed the sad smile on his uncles face. Ser Kevan watched him with a humorous expression, but Tyrion also recognized sadness in his eyes.

"What is it?" He asked, gesturing to his uncle with his cup of wine.

"You have no idea how much you and your wife remind me of your parents" Kevan said with a smirk. "Tywin and Joanna were exactly like you. He always spoke, but she was it in the background, supporting him. It always was funny to look at." Now Tyrion was dumbfounded, he had never known his mother, had only heard of her relationship with his father. His father always had been hard and merciless, his father had always known what he wanted and made it happen. Was he like him? It had never occurred to him; Lord Tywin's permanent disappointment of him let him believe he would be nothing.

"You didn't just say that, or?" He asked his uncle, allowing himself hope. After all his father had been a great Lord, a respected man and he wanted to be so too.

"Your father had his mistakes I won't deny that, you probably endured them more than anybody else, but you grew with them and now you act like he had before your mother died. It frightened me a bit how much you are like him." Kevan smirked again and took his leave. Tyrion stayed and mused about what he just heard.

-##-

The business of the day wasn't much. He had to answer a few ravens and read the reports of his men in the city. Apparently the city was safe and nobody really bemoaned Joffrey demise. There were some problems with refuges but the Gold Cloaks were able to handle it. The refuges flooded the city, religious fanatics but it was the problem of the Gold Cloaks. Tyrion had banned them from the Red Keep so there were enough of them in the city. He only wanted his men around, men he could trust. Men who couldn't be bought by someone with money.

He still hadn't gotten any news from Bronn, the former sellsword would reach the Twins in maybe a week but he had expected a raven from him after his arrival at Harrenhal, but he had gotten nothing. Maybe nothing to worry about, but he did. Bronn's mission was crucial, he would bring Sansa's family to the Rock. He perhaps had one of the most important missions at all. Tyrion hoped they would be fine, the Freys had sent a raven they would, but Tyrion didn't trust this weasels.

The next letter was from the citadel, they wrote it wouldn't lay in the powers of the King's Hand to depose a Grand Maester and they wouldn't replace Pycelle. Tyrion wrote back that he certainly could depose him, on one way or another, maybe he would sent Pycelle back in a sack. Or they could just send a new one and he would be very grateful. The Maesters would like it if the Lord of Casterly Rock owned them a debt. He always respected the Maesters and their knowledge and he didn't want a dispute between him and them.

He was glad to receive the message that Randyll Tarly and his men had turned and marched back north, another problem less. Tarly would be of good use in the North, nobody had ever took Moat Cailin and it would be the hardest part of retaking the North from the Ironborn. In the meanwhile the Redwyn fleet was on their way to siege Dragonstone, with Dragonstone under siege Stannis would be finally as good as defeated and after the Greyjoys' demise Tommen's power would be secured. He would be safe and Tyrion could sleep peacefully.

His thoughts wandered off to his father again. He still didn't know if he had been murdered or not. Pycelle was an idiot and hadn't been able to find anything. Tyrion mused about the possible suspects, Littlefinger, he would know tomorrow at his interrogation if he had something to do with it. The Tyrells, not likely. The red viper, most likely, but how to prove it? Varys, he couldn't imagine that, there was nothing he would gain, at least at this point of time. Stannis, maybe but how? He hadn't an answer but had to find one soon, or maybe it had been just a natural death.

A noise at the door brought him back out of his thoughts. He looked up and saw Jaime entering his solar. He looked different, tired. His hair was short and he wore a beard, his time as a prisoner was visible, but what shocked him most was his missing hand. His sword hand was missing, how had this happened?

Tyrion stormed from his desk to his brother and embraced him, both were laughing in joy.

"By the gods, what happened with you?" Tyrion asked him curios and pointed at his stump.

"I let my Hand in Harrenhal, thanks to father's bloody mummers." Jaime answered him. The mentioning of their father let them fall silent for a moment until Jaime bowed down and examined Tyrion's scar.

"And what happened with you, you are even uglier than I remember" He teased him in a mocking tone. Tyrion gave him a fake stern gaze and walked back to his desk, gesturing Jaime to follow him.

"They forced me into a battle without my big brother protecting me, so in a certain way it is your fault." He answered Jaime in the same friendly mocking tone "A cup of wine?"

Jaime sat down in the chair opposite of Tyrion and took the offered cup. Tyrion sat down too and let his brother further examine his scar. Tyrion on the other hand gazed at his stump. The bloody mummers, his father's monsters from the other side of the Narrow Sea, they would pay for it, pay for taking his brothers sword hand. Was he even able to fight? His brother had been the greatest swordsman in the seven Kingdoms, had that changed?

"It is an impressive scar brother" Jaime started to talk after he had finished examining the scar.

"So are yours brother, you should afford a gold hand for it, Jaime Lannister the gold hand" He waved theatrically with his arms and made a deep loud voice like he was introducing a hero of the old ages.

"And what is with you, a golden nose maybe? Tyrion with the golden nose." Jaime paid him back. Both had to laugh about it, it was just such a ridiculous situation.

"Yes the Lannister-boys with golden parts, the historians might like it, but I don't think my wife would." Jaime gazed at him a little more serious now.

"It happened much during my unintended absence, right?" Jaime had no idea how much.

"Yes brother it happened much." Tyrion's good mood was away, he had so much to talk about with Jaime and he was afraid it couldn't wait.

"I am sorry for Joffrey" Tyrion wasn't really sorry, the boy had been a monster but he had also been Jaime's son too. Tyrion placed his cup on the desk and watched his brother, ready for everything what could come. Jaime followed his example, exhaled and said:

"Maybe it was for the best, the boy was never to be a good person. But first, tell me of father." Tyrion was a bit surprised about his brother's reaction and wasn't quite ready to let the matter besides. His son was dead and it seemed he didn't care.

"Loras Tyrell will take the black, justice will be served" Jaime averted his eyes to his cup

"I know, Cersei told me. What is with father" He demanded in a sterner tone. He had already been by Cersei? Probably celebrating their reunion, Tyrion thought, but she was in the Sept, with Joffrey's corpse, they wouldn't, or would they? He had always known their relationship was a bit 'different' but this was even too much for him. He gave Jaime a judging gaze. But the eyes of his brother told him it was time to talk about their dead father.

"He died," Tyrion heard his voice failing "I don't know how. A servant came to my room and told me, he just lay in his chambers." Tyrion took a large gulp of wine and continued "The Maester said it was his heart, but Pycelle is a fool, I let him search for poison but he failed too. It is definitive possible but I never found proof." Jaime looked like Tyrion felt, back at this day.

"A murderer? I believe you have too many suspects to find him, right?" Oh yes, he had too many, his father had never been loved, even in the Westerlands he had been more respected than loved. "At least my Kingsguard status saved me from being his heir. That is your job now, have fun." Jaime told him with a closing gesture of his arm. Tyrion was glad this was no problem, he didn't want that the Rock would stand between them, but he knew Jaime never wanted Casterly Rock so he hadn't expected otherwise.

He wanted to tell Jaime of Littlefinger's plot, but decided to wait, Jaime had always been impulsive and it wouldn't help. Jaime smiled at him and lifted his cup.

"I also heard some pleasing news. I have to congratulate you to your marriage" He fixed him with his gaze "You know I am actually supposed to send her back to her mother?" Tyrion had feared that, he had been the one brokering the deal with Lady Stark, but he didn't want Sansa to leave, he didn't know what to do then, he needed her. He also feared she would take this opportunity to leave, that all they developed had just been an act of her. No it wasn't, it couldn't.

"I know, brother and if she wants to leave I won't hold her back, but I doubt she would go." Jaime looked a bit surprised and so he continued "You know, we just started to be good together and I personally don't want to lose her and I hope she feels the same about me. Besides we will travel to the Rock soon enough and if everything goes right we will meet her mother there."

"My dear brother, do you love her?"Jaime asked him a bit unbelieving his voice between mocking and curiosity. Tyrion knew the answer to this question; he had known it a long time. He couldn't live without her any longer, couldn't be without her. He loved her wit, her beauty and how she treats him, with respect and not as a monster. He loved what they did and wanted even more.

"Yes brother, I love her, more than anybody else. And I want to believe she loves me too, she would be the first woman ever." Tyrion's voice showed resignation by his last words. Jaime looked like he wanted to say something but apparently he decided not to.

They spent the rest of the day with chattering. Tyrion had to let him in into his plans and what had happened in King's Landing during his absence. He told him how the Kingsguard had treated Sansa on Joffrey's command, Jaime wasn't very pleased about that. Jaime told him once how he had had to stand besides when the Mad King had raped his Queen, so he wasn't surprised that Jaime consented to punish them when he demanded it for the Kingsguard members who had hit Sansa. He also told him of the arrangement with the Tyrells and that he had to choose two of their men as new members of the Kingsguard. Jaime was glad, he hadn't decided about his new 'brothers' without him.

He wasn't so glad when Tyrion told him he would leave to Casterly Rock and planned not to return. Jaime feared Cersei would want him as Hand and he hated politic, he wanted Tyrion to stay, to rule the Kingdoms. He most likely wanted Cersei all for himself now without Robert, but Tyrion knew it wouldn't happen. He didn't take the news of Littlefingers plan to abduct Sansa good either. He advised him to use an old Maester named Qyburn, who had rode with the bloody mummers when he would interrogate Littlefinger. Tyrion would take his advice.

When the sun went down Tyrion left his brother and wandered through the halls to his chamber. Sansa waited for him and he was anxious to see her.

-##-

Arrived at their chambers he saw Sansa waiting for him in the middle of the bed, she wore nothing else than a small shift. She looked so beautiful, illuminated by dozens of candles in the room. Her auburn hair was behind her back and her long pale legs stretched in his direction. Tyrion never saw such beauty. He lingered at the door for a second to drink her in with his eyes. What had he done to deserve such a perfect wife? He didn't know, and for the moment he couldn't care less.

He walked over to her and climbed on the bed besides her. She smiled at him and Tyrion noticed, to his surprise, hunger in her eyes. Just two weeks ago she hadn't even been able to look at him, and now. Did she want him? Yes, Tyrion was sure of that.

He kissed her, tasted her sent when her and his tongue circled in each other's mouths, it was intoxicating.

"How was your day, Tyrion" Her voice was seductive and she smiled at him, it was a courtesy not more, maybe some sort of foreplay. He wanted to continue, not talk about the day, but he owed her at least a quick answer.

"My brother is back"

"I know, I met his entourage" This let him pale, she had met his entourage? Had they offered her to leave? Had she wanted to go? No, she wouldn't be with him now if. Or was she here for a sort of goodbye? He feared to ask but had to:

"And what did you say to them?" She gazed at him, smiled and kissed him again. Now all doubts were like washed away. The kiss told him all he needed to know. He felt how she wanted him, demanded him and his stomach jumped. She wanted to be with him.

Now all shyness felt away from him, he trailed a line of kisses from her mouth to her neck, nibbled at her ear and was rewarded with a moan. He felt her fingers at his clothes, freeing him. He lifted his arms to assist her and after a few moments he was nude like at his Nameday. He griped Sansas shift and pull it over her head.

She was magnificent. A perfect young beauty. He slowly rested his hands at her hips and let them wander to her breast, circling her nipples with his thumps, kissing her during the process. She let herself fall back on the cushions, moaning by his touch. He kissed her collarbone and went down her chest. He took her right nipple in his mouth and slightly bit on it, he felt it harden. His hand trailed down to her thigh, cautiously brushing against it. Sansa arched her back and exhaled a deep moan. She now had her hands in his hair and started wandering with them around his head. Encouraged by it he led his hand to her core and felt her wetness. Tyrion looked up in her eyes, her wonderful blue eyes, pleading permission and she smiled in consent. He grinned back and lowered his head until he reached her thighs. She parted them further to give him a better access. He knew she didn't know what he planned, but she trusted him, that was for sure and so she let him do it.

Tyrion used his hands to separate her flesh and used his tongue to lick over her inner folds. She stiffened and he stopped, afraid she didn't want to.

"NO, continue" She moaned and he obeyed. He rested between her thighs and tasted her, using his thumb to massage her clit. It didn't take long until her moans grew louder and her back arched again. Her hands gripped in the blanked and Tyrion knew her climax wasn't far away; he pushed his tongue farther into her. She started to cry out and he felt her inner walls tighten.

After her climax went through her he crawled upwards and rested besides her. She was sweaty and breathed heavy.

"Do you want to continue?" She looked at him in surprise.

"There is more?" She asked incredulous. Tyrion exhaled a light laughter and kissed her.

"Yes, so much more." She smiled and nodded. She looked a bit limb when she turned to her side to watch him. He thought how it would be best. "I think you should be on top." He told her. She blushed slightly and gave him a questioning gaze. It would be best, he was after all a dwarf and it would give him the opportunity to look her in the eyes.

He helped her to straddle him, she looked a bit uncertain at his erected cock and Tyrion was afraid it would nauseate her.

"Do you want me to touch you?" He had to laugh about her question; yes he wanted, but not now. He wanted to enjoy it as long as possible and he wouldn't hold long if she touched him now. She was still sweaty, her hair stuck at her face. Tyrion never wanted her more, he leaned back at the headboard of the bed and looked her in the eyes, he wanted to see them. She lifted her hip, guided by his hands and he grabbed his cock and placed it at her entrance. She was still wet and he hoped it would ease the pain. He didn't want to hurt her.

She slowly slit down on him. He held her back a little, with his hand on her hip, so she wouldn't be too fast. She let her head fall back and exhaled a long moan, he followed her example. She was so tight, her warmth was so, he couldn't even describe it. There was never a woman who wanted him for who he was and now there was one, he couldn't believe his luck. He felt her maidenhead tear inside of her and saw how she bit her lips. She had taken him fully inside. He waited until she could become accustomed to his size and after that he waited what she would do. She started to rock her hip against his, first slowly cautious but she grew bold and he could hear her moans again. It was a magnificent feeling, she was so beautiful and he thought he wouldn't be able to hold on long.

"Sansa look at me" He breathed. She looked in his eyes and so did he. Her eyes, yes they were the most beautiful part of her, he could stare at them every moment of the day, deep blue with a hint of Stark steel.

It didn't take long in their dance until Tyrion was sure he couldn't hold on any longer, but he wanted her to feel pleasure first. He guided his hand to her clit and circled it, rewarded by more moans of her. Their rhythm lost his smooth and Sansa went faster on him. Tyrion could felt her second climax approaching and rocked faster too. When her inner walls tighten again he exhaled a deep moan and released himself in her warmth. She collapsed on him, their sweaty bodies embracing each other.

Tyrion kissed her, first on the nose than on the mouth, she looked exhausted alike he. Tyrion grabbed the blanked and covered them before he embraced her again. And so they felt asleep.

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**I did it, please be gentle it's my first lemon of these kind**

**Ps. the fairy is away now, and Sansa is 13 again, but she will appear again ;) if you liked it**

**Review, please**


	18. Chapter 18

**Hello again**

**This chapter contains lot conspiracy theories of mine, it is a Tyrion chapter, his story needed a boost, but I promise the next is Sansa again**

**Revisited 09.05.2013**

**I own nothing**

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"So? Where shall we begin?"

Petyr Baelish, also known as Littlefinger, leaned at the wall of his black cell. His hair was messy and his face was covered in dirt. His days in the hands of 'Old Mate' were visible, cuts littered his face and body, his clothes were ripped apart and revealed more traces of his handling through the torturer, it also revealed a large scar, from navel to collarbone. He looked hungry and thirsty, no surprise he hadn't gotten any food during his time in the cell in order to break his spirit. He must be exhausted and without the strength to fight back or to lie, it was easier to tell the truth for him.

Tyrion sat on a chair opposite to him, the 'Old Mate' to his left and the former Maester Qyburn to his right. Jaime was right; the man would be of use. Myatt stood at the door overlooking the scenery. Tyrion had problems to concentrate at the situation, his thoughts consistently wandered to Sansa. The last night had been amazing, he had never experienced something like that. Sansa had come to him and she had wanted him, nobody had ever wanted him, they had always wanted his money but nothing else. He now understood how wrong his lifestyle had been. Sansa had opened up to him, had shared everything with him, it had been the most intimate moment he had ever experienced in his life. And now her eyes haunted him, he always had to think of them, her gaze on him, he wanted more.

He had woken up this morning curled up in her and he had felt like new born. They had spent some time together in their bed, embracing each other, Tyrion hadn't wanted to move, he had wanted to stay there for the rest of his life, but he hadn't could. They wanted to leave, travel to Casterly Rock, but first he had to deal with Littlefinger. Afterwards they finally could leave without sorrows. He had broken his fast with her and had walked down to the dungeons to interrogate Baelish. He hoped three days would be enough to break him and he would get his answers.

Tyrion was disgusted by Littlefingers sight, not only because of his actions and character, no, because of his physical condition too. Tyrion hated torture, he didn't like to watch it, it was cruel, nauseating, but it was useful and Littlefinger was a special case. He had a great network of spies and plotted not only with the Tyrells, Tyrion wanted to know everything of his plans and plots. He wanted to know what Littlefinger's role had been during this conflict, and he would get his answers.

"I think we should start at the beginning, Jon Arryn's death. Lysa Arryn blamed me for his death, why?" Tyrion thought this through, he needed an overlook of all what led to this day and he had to start somewhere.

Littlefinger looked up at him, his face expressionless, his eyes like dead but he kept silent. Tyrion gestured to 'Old Mate' who started to approach Littlefinger, this made Littlefinger flinch, fear flashed in his eyes. Tyrion grinned at him.

"We can do this all day, you know? Or you tell me what I want to know. And the truth, please"

He saw Littlefingers façade breaking; Baelish exhaled a gulp of air and began, his voice was free of his usual tone.

"Lysa killed him, with my help. She thought he wanted to foster her son away from her, she couldn't stand that" Tyrion remembered Lysa Arryn's unhealthy relationship with her son, he could believe his words, but this wasn't enough. Tyrion gestured the man to continue by waving his index finger. "I helped her, provided the poison. Then I made her sending a letter to her sister to blame your family." This would explain the mistrust of Catelyn Stark. She had abducted him, had brought him to the Vale, had accused him of crimes he had never committed. The pieces slowly felt together.

"Why"

"I wanted, mistrust and I wanted to make sure that Ned Stark takes the position as Hand." Littlefingers voice was weak and Tyrion had to concentrate to understand everything. He understood his chain of thoughts. But how would he benefit, what did he want to gain?

"So, you tell me you set this conflict up, lured Ned Stark into the city, did you also told him the lie of Joffrey's origin? And why did you bring Ned Stark into the city anyway? Just to betray him?"

"I told Stannis, or made it obvious to him and he told Jon Arryn. I led Stark to the clues I laid out and gave him a bit assistance. Because, I wanted a war" A confession, now Tyrion had him, Littlefinger was broken and he would finally know what he was up to.

"Tell me your plan, everything. Make no mistake; these men will bring me the truth." He gestured to his left and right and gave Baelish a grin.

"I wanted to start a war between Lannister and Starks, first part of my plan was to bring Ned Stark to the city, bring him the information of the origin of the Queen's children and create mischief. I wanted to kill his little son during the journey or in the city to create a trigger. But his fall made this impossible, so I sent an assassin, the fact that Cat stopped him and captured you was an even better trigger, it worked better than planned." He was it, he sent an assassin to kill Sansa's little brother, Tyrion felt the anger in him rising, but he suppressed it to hear what else would come. "Your father's invasion of the Riverlands did the rest. After King Robert's death, a result of Stark's discovery I betrayed him and made sure Joffrey demanded his head." Also responsible for that, Tyrion had more and more reasons to bring him a very unpleasant death. "There would be no peace and Stannis's and Renly's attacks made it easier for me." Tyrion was a bit dumbfounded, he was responsible for everything. "I wanted that they kill each other; weaken their armies, after Joffrey's death I wanted to make sure that the dornish crone Myrcella and then I planned to send an assassin to kill her. Your sister would have blamed the Martells and this would have provoked a war between Lannister and Martells." He wanted to send as assassin?

"Is this assassin already on the way?" Tyrion interrupted him, he needed to know.

"Yes, his name is Gerold Dayne, he calls himself Darkstar. As far as I know he will accompany Arianne Martell by her childish plan to crone Myrcella and kill the princess at a suiting moment" Tyrion panicked, he had to do something, had to save his niece. He turned to Myatt.

"Send a raven to Doran Martell, inform him about the plot, NOW!" His voice trembled. Myatt ran out of the room and Tyrion turned back to the speaking corpse. It wasn't over and what if he had planned more. "And then?"

"After the Lannister Tyrell alliance would have defeated the Martells I wanted to reveal the Tyrell part in Joffrey's dead and provoke a war between you two. After this the only army untouched by the war would have been the men of the Vale, Lysa's men, my wife's men. I could have invaded, kill the King and took the throne for myself." What? He wanted to be King, he was just a minor toddler of a minor house, this plan was ridiculous. There had to be more.

"So you betrayed Ned Stark, provoked the greatest war of all times to get the throne, why, simple greed?"

Littlefinger averted his eyes and Tyrion let 'Old Mate' made noises with his instruments. Startled by the sound Baelish continued.

"I was fostered by Hoster Tully, and I wanted his daughter, but she, she married this Northerner. His brother sliced me open, and she married him. Am I so much under her?" Littlefingers voice showed traces of anger. Tyrion didn't know if he should laugh or not, all that only because of injured pride? This was pathetic.

"I ask myself something, how did you wanted to please my father after you abduct Sansa? He would have lost Winterfell." This question wasn't important, but the reasons why he wanted to abduct her would be the topic of his last question. "There is a girl, she came from Winterfell, the daughter of the Starks' steward. She grew up with them, was their friend. She knows everything of them. She survived the Starks' fall and I took care of her. I wanted to give her to your father. She would have been able to pass as Arya Stark. Able to marry the bastard of Bolton" A girl from Winterfell, a friend of Sansa, why was this the first time he had heard of that?

"How is her name? And where is she?" Tyrion was curious, he didn't know that Sansa may had friends left from her time back in Winterfell, and if this was true she would have her back soon.

"Her name is Jeyne Poole, the steward's daughter, I sent her in one of my brothels"

"WHAT?" Tyrion couldn't hold on, this man had sent a girl, a friend of Sansa to a brothel? Anger rose in him, he knew Littlefinger had no conscience but that; he surprised him more and more. Tyrion planned to send Myatt to this brothel and get her out, Sansa would most likely happy to see a childhood friend again.

"Now to my father, did you kill him?" His father's death had become his obsession and Tyrion had to know. Littlefinger shook his head violently

"No my Lord, I swear, please" Tyrion wasn't pleased by his pleading but he believed him.

"Now to the most important question" Tyrion was anxious to hear the answer, he lowered his voice and gave Littlefinger a sinister grin "Why did you want to abduct Sansa, how fit she in your plans?" Baelish kept silent, pressing himself at the wall, he tried to raise his hand to protect his face, but the chains were too tight. Tyrion got more and more angry, every minute he had to restrain himself even more. He just wanted to send one of his torturers when Littlefinger started:

"She was supposed to be the heiress to Winterfell and the Riverlands, I wanted to marry her to the heir of the Vale, if she had a child it would have a claim to North, Riverlands and the Vale, I could have been the Lord-protector. So I planned to get the throne." He started to whimper "And she looks like her mother, maybe it could have been my child, secretly, it had been mine, my blood on the Iron Throne" Tyrion was shocked, this 'creature' had wanted to use his wife for his sick fantasies, it made him furious beyond imagine.

Tyrion jumped from his seat, overwhelmed by his wrath and got a grip on Littlefinger's throat, he tightened his hands around it, he wanted to choke this perverted bastard to death. Littlefinger had wanted to abduct Sansa, had wanted to make her to his concubine, had wanted to rape her if she wouldn't have wanted to, only because she looked like her mother who had rejected him. He had to die, he was a monster, more than even Tyrion had thought. He lost all control over his actions, his rage controlled him. 'Old mate' and Qyburn didn't try to stop him. Littlefinger couldn't do anything; he was chained to the wall, haggard by his imprisonment. Tyrion watched his face growing blue and his legs fell limp, it would be over soon. He gazed in his eyes, saw them get milky.

But then he came to sense, he needed Littlefinger alive, for now. He slowly let loose of his throat and stepped back, his face still red in anger. Littlefinger entire body fell limp and he breathed heavily, to Tyrion's pleasure he looked very much in pain. Tyrion turned around to his minions.

"Make sure he survives a journey to the Rock, I want to take him with me. He should repeat his confession to Lord Stark." Yes, he would present Robb Stark the real culprit for this war, the man who had brought all this tragedies over his family and he would let him take Littlefinger's head. Maybe it would help to seal the peace and eradicate the bad blood. His men nodded and Tyrion took his leave, but suddenly a though came to his mind. This wasn't enough, Littlefinger had to pay more, he wanted him in pain. Tyrion stopped at the door and gazed again at his men

"Oh, and castrate him"

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**I hope you liked it, if no review, if yes review too**

**IMO Tyrion's outbreak is realistic, but if you disagree say so, please**


	19. Chapter 19

**Sorry you had to wait, but it is 18 degree Celsius here, autumn is late and it confused me, I hate it**

**Thanks for your reviews**

**Revisited 09.05.2013**

**I own nothing**

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Sansa sat on the balcony of Tyrion's and her chambers, a book in her lap, humming. She watched King's Landing, it was a beautiful autumn day, midday had already pass and the sun slowly took its way to the west. She had actually wanted to read but she couldn't concentrate on her book, too many thoughts flew through her head. She could have gone to Margery and spent the day with her, or inviting Lyda Myatt to sow with her. She had briefly thought about spending the day with Tommen, Cersei was too occupied with Joffrey's corpse and funeral and neglected him.

She was glad that she didn't have to be present at Joffrey's funeral, Ser Jaime was back in the city and this meant she and Tyrion would leave soon. She had already spent the forenoon with preparing their departure, overlooking the servants.

But despite all her options to spend the day she had decided to be alone, she was too overwhelmed by the aftershock of last night. During the preparations for the departure she had been distracted by her task, but after she had finished the preparations, the events of the last night and the early morning had hit her with full force. She had wanted to be alone, to process what happened. She had never imagined it would be like this. Her mother had only told her she had to lie down and endure her future husband's desires. Nobody else had ever talked about it, it was like a taboo at least in upper spheres. Septa Mordane had told her it wouldn't be suitable for a Lady to bother herself with this topic; it would be 'indecorous'. What had she known? She had never felt what Sansa felt that night.

During her time in King's Landing she had started to fear it, as Joffrey's fiancée she had feared him, she realized, had feared what he would do to her during their wedding night and later. The fear of him had let her fear the act itself, she hadn't known what would come and it had become a nightmare. Tyrion hadn't been helpful, during the first days she had feared him too, thinking an imp would have perverted tastes and would use her for it. She had been relieved when he had told her he wouldn't do anything to her without her consent and the fact that he had kept his word was one of the main reasons she had started to trust him. But when the time and their relationship had moved forward she had started to feel an urge for him, she wanted him, wanted his touch. And their kisses hadn't been displeasing or horrifying any longer, quite the contrary, they were magnificent, she wanted more and more. His touch during Joffrey's wedding night had even been better, she had been anxious for more, but they had been interrupted, it had frustrated her, she hadn't been aware of this first but yes she had been frustrated.

But finally they had managed it. Sansa hadn't been willing to let this Brienne of Tarth ruin her day and she had proceeded with her preparations for the night. He had been so gentle and at the same time passionate, she had never imagined that. She had known he had done that before and trusted him to do the right thing, he would have never hurt her. She still didn't understand what he had exactly done to her when he had seated his head between her legs, she had an idea but the feeling had been too intense to pay attention. And what followed had been even more, she had never experienced such a thing, obviously, but still, she had thought it would hurt terrible, but the pain had been bearable, nothing compared with what she had experienced so far in King's Landing and it had been short, and afterwards there was only pleasure. After that, whatever it had been, she had collapsed on him, embracing him when he had covered them with a blanked and had fallen asleep in his arms.

She had woken up in the morning, still feeling the last night and found him watching her; he must have done that for some time, according to his facial expression. She had curled further up to him and had embraced him, they had laid there until he had had to go, she hadn't wanted him to, but she had known he had to. He had planned to interrogate Littlefinger and overlooking Cersei's doing a last time. He wouldn't be back before sundown. It gave her plenty of time to evaluate what had happened and she had come to the conclusion she wanted to do it again, and again. If this was what husband and wife do she definitely wanted more, and something he had said came back to her: "Yes, so much more." She couldn't avoid thinking about what he had meant, where there even more than what they had done, if yes she wanted to explore it with him. But what could that be?

She mused about it until a knock at the door demanded her attention. She laid the book at the small table besides her and smoothed her gown. Whoever it was, she wanted to look decent, she had sat there for hours. She fast adjusted her hair and walked in the middle of the room and called the person on the other side of the door to come in.

It was Lord Myatt, he bowed his head and greeted her. She did the same.

"My Lord, what can I do for you?"

"My Lady, your husband sends me to bring her to you." He gestured with his hand behind him and a girl appeared in the door frame. She was very pretty, with dark hair and brown eyes; she wore a very revealing dress and looked a bit pale. Sansa recognized her immediately, a ghost from her past. How was it possible?

"Jeyne, is that you?"

Jeyne Poole, her old friend. Where had she been? Why was she here? Jeyne looked at least as surprised as Sansa was. She suddenly started to shake, to sob, she ran through her, fell on her knees and embraced Sansas knees. When she started crying Sansa slit on the floor and took her in her arms. She gestured Myatt to leave, he slightly bowed his head and left without another word, closing the door behind him.

Sansa stayed where she was, holding her old friend. It took a while until her sobs decreased and she looked up to Sansa, her eyes were puffy and her face red.

"What happen to you, Jeyne?" Sansa asked softly, she had to understand in order to help her. Jeyne just stared at her. Sansa slowly rose and dragged Jeyne with her, she guided her to the couch and placed her on it, Sansa sat besides her, waiting for an answer.

"They,... They brought me to Lord Baelish, he, he said the only use for me would be as as a whore" Jeynes sobs increased again and Sansa felt a pang in her chest by her words. Littlefinger again, this man had a habit of abducting girls. But she also felt guilt, she had been glad that Jeyne had been taken away, back then, when she had thought everything would be good soon. She had been annoyed by her crying, now she asked herself how she could have been so cold to her. Jeyne had been her friend and hopefully she would it again.

Sansa wanted her back as a friend, she decided that she would help her. She wanted to say something but Jeyne continued her story.

"They brought me in one of his brothels, they said I had to learn" Learn? "When the men came this afternoon I thought they would bring me to him, they said Lord Tyrion requested me, I thought, I mean he and whores, I was so afraid" Yes, Sansa knew what she had thought, Tyrion's reputation wasn't the best in that matter. She slowly laid her arm around Jeyne, comforted her. Tyrion must have learned what Littlefinger had done to her and had sent his men to bring her here. Jeyne must have thought he would be her first costumer.

"Don't worry Jeyne, you are safe now, no one will do anything to you, I will protect you" Jeyne looked a bit uncertain by her statement, she obviously didn't know what had happened in the city the last weeks. "You know, Tyrion is my husband now, and the Lord of Casterly Rock. Nobody will touch you if I order them not to. Littlefinger spends his days in the dungeons now. You are safe, I promise." Jeyne's eyes widened by her explanation, she gazed at her for some time until she pressed herself against her, embracing her, her voice still shaking.

"What are my problems? You have to share the bed with the Imp." Sansa knew what she thought and said in a friendly but stern voice:

"Don't call him that" She didn't like it when somebody, anybody called her husband 'Imp' "Tyrion is a good man, a good husband, I wouldn't trade him for anything. He protected me and he will do the same for you, you won't have to fear anything." Sansa stroke Jeynes back "We will leave the city, in two days, heading to the Rock and you can come with us if you want. We were friends, I would like if we could be friends again." Sansas words were honest and she was glad when Jeyne lifted her head. She gave her a reassuring smile.

"I would love to be your friend again. And I want to leave Kings Landing."

"We will Jeyne, we will."

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The day of their departure had arrived quickly. They would travel by carriage, their men would accompany them. Tyrion had agreed to let five thousand men behind as reinforcements for the Gold Cloaks. Sansa was glad to leave the city, finally. She and Tyrion would travel in the carriage, she didn't like to ride, neither did Tyrion and it was more comfortable. Jeyne would be there too, not all the time of course, Sansa wanted to spend some time alone with Tyrion, experiencing unknown territories. They had done this the last days and Sansa's horizon increased every day. She really liked it. But she was also glad to have Jeyne with her, Sansa was horrified by the degree of Littlefinger's crimes, he had sent an assassin to Bran and even worse, he had been the man who convinced Joffrey to kill her father. He had to pay for his crimes and Tyrion had assured her he would, but first he had to meet her brother.

Sansa was anxious to see her family again, or better the other part of her family. Tyrion was a part of her family now, Ser Jaime and Tommen and soon Margery too. She had spent the last evening with them. Ser Jaime had asked her if she really wanted to be with Tyrion, she learned he had taken an oath to send her back to her mother. She had assured him Tyrion wouldn't hold her back and everything she had done had be out of free will. He had looked sceptical, so Sansa had griped Tyrion's shirt and pulled him in a long deep kiss. Ser Jaime's face had been hilarious and they had laughed all together, except for the Queen, who hadn't accompanied them. But she was here now; they all would see them off in the yard. The same ritual they had had yesterday when Mace Tyrell and his men had left the city.

Tommen looked like he was about to cry, he embraced Sansa's knees, not wanting to let her go.

"Do you have to go?" He asked with a sad tone.

"Yes, but don't worry, I am sure we will visit you or you could come visit us?" Tommen looked up to her

"Really?"

"You are the King; you can visit your Bannermen whenever you want." He kissed his forehead and gave him a hug. The Queen wasn't very amused about it and Sansa gave her a quick bow of her head. After Tyrion freed her from Tommen's embrace to say him goodbye. She was happy not to see Cersei for a long time, Cersei was Ser Jaime's problem now, hopefully he would be able to control her. Tyrion had resigned as Hand and Ser Jaime refused the position, Sansa was worried what Cersei would do now.

Ser Jaime was next, he grinned at her. "Please tell your mother I wanted to fulfil my oath but couldn't flip you over my shoulder and carry you to her." She smiled at him. He had been truthful to his oath but it had been her decision, she had already allowed this Brienne to accompany them. "And maybe you shouldn't demonstrate it like yesterday, it could confuse her." Sansa grinned back at him when he suddenly gave her a hug with his handless arm. "And if my brother causes you any trouble or problems..." She pulled away from him the smile still on her face.

"I will bring him to reason myself." A laughter escaped Ser Jaime's throat

"Dear brother you have a real wolf in your bed"

"Yes and I won't change it, not for everything in the world." Tyrion told him, it made Sansa happy to hear that from him.

The last to say goodbye was Margaery, she wasn't happy that Sansa was about to leave. She hugged her and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

"Do you really have to leave? We are just friends for a few days." Yes they were friends, they had spent the last day together, she and Margaery her cousins and Jeyne, it was the first time Sansa hadn't been sure she wanted to leave, but her family waited.

Sansa and Tyrion settled in the carriage and waited for the ride to start, when Sansa noticed a long packet in the background.

"What is that?" She pointed at it. Tyrion was startled and visible nervous, he tried to hide it, successful.

"Nothing, Sansa, nothing." She wanted to question him further when a bucking brought her out of her thoughts. The carriage started to move, she was on the way out of the city, to Casterly Rock, to her mother and brother.

"Are you happy Sansa?" Tyrion asked cautiously "We leave the city, together, heading in a future, together."

She gave him a smile.

"Yes, I am"

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**This is the end of part one; this story grew bigger and more complex than I ever imagined.**

**I must ask you to be patient, I need a week or two to recharge my creative energy, but I will continue**

**I'm more of a gardener than an architect, so I must think where this story will go; I have the line but not enough for now.**

**I would like if you could give me a critic about the entire story so far, what you liked, what not so I can improve it, If you would throw a bag of seed in my garden I wouldn't mind, maybe I get some more inspiration**

**But for now, thanks for your constant support and loyalty**

**LoBall sorry it's not but I fixed it**


	20. Chapter 20

**So here I am, back**

**Even if I didn't get as much reviews as I hoped for, thanks for them, and your favourites... and because I love you all here is my little thank you**

**When I mused this week about how I should continue the story I realized I had to add a filler chapter to deal with some lose story ends and as a start-up for the next part**

**Sansa and Tyrion are in love and happy, now it's about with what they have to deal in their **

**Revisited 09.05.2013**

**I own nothing**

The former Sellsword

Bronn followed the street to the Twins, even if it not appeared so he was deep in thoughts. He had to watch out for his demeanour now, he was a Lord. Bronn had never thought he would rise so high, the Imp had granted him Silver Vale, a large domain with rich silver-mines in the heart of the Westerlands. Back in the Vale he had sided with the Imp because he thought the little shit could be a springboard to better payers, there had been times he had doubted his decision, but now he was glad he did what he did...

He grinned to himself, he commanded one thousand men, was one of the most powerful Lords of the Westerlands and would be even more, the Imps right hand, he could marry a rich Lady and could rise even higher. Not bad for the son of a scapegrace. The downside was he was bound to the Imp, who luckily tolerated, maybe even like, his ways, but he could easily depose him whenever he wanted. His freedom wasn't that large any more, but large enough for him, even bound to the Imp. Although Bronn would have to consolidate his position and had to keep good relationships with the other Lords and of course to the Imp, luckily this mission was perfect for that.

He nearly hadn't made it to the Twins in time; he had sent his men ahead and had caught up with them only a few miles before they had reached the Twins. He had had business in Flea Bottom. The Imp would be displeased that he hadn't sent news from Harrenhal, but his men had done well, so there was no problem. The men thought he had been sick, hiding in a carriage for the whole journey. 'Idiots' This little trick had given him enough time to deal with a few lose ends.

He had had to deal with the little whore, the Imp had sent away after he had decided to marry his wife. Lucky bastard, not only the richest man in the seven Kingdoms, no he even had gotten a beautiful young wife. Bronn wouldn't say no to her. A dwarf blessed with such a wife, damn. But this whore had been a problem, he had deposed her in Flea Bottom, in case the Imp would request her services again, but after his marriage had seemed to get better she had been a threat, especially to him. Back in the camp at the green fork a man had paid him to bring her in the Imp's bed, it had been a good deal, she had most likely been a spy, but he hadn't cared back then and hadn't done so in King's Landing. But if the Imp would have found out, he would have lost everything he ever had received from him. She had to be silent, forever.

She hadn't been surprise to see him; she had most likely thought he would bring her back to the Imp. But she had been even more surprised when he had pinned her to the wall, with a knife at her throat. Bronn had taken his time; he had needed the names of her employer, her handler. She had been good, for a sixteen year old. He had needed nearly three hours, but finally he had had the names and could slide her throat. He had disposed her in the Blackwater Bay, nobody would ever find her. The man who had paid him back at the camp and her handler had been the only other who had known of him, or at least that had been what they said when he had ended their lives. He didn't need their employer, he didn't care. His position was safe, for now.

Bronn reached the gates of this ugly bridge, he already hated the Twins, they were depressing and this weasel faced Freys weren't better. Bronn mused if he had already killed a few of them, most likely, maybe even for free. No, never for free, but maybe he would do it now, as a courtesy.

A delegation awaited him at the gate, led by one of this Walder Freys; the black haired man had a smile on his weasel face. They didn't exactly know what he wanted from them and he liked the advantage he gained through this fact. On a spike above the gate he noticed a big head, Bronn immediately recognized the half burned face, it was the dog that ran away. How had he gotten here? Who cares? But he regretted that he wouldn't be able to test his skills against him, he would have killed him, but it would have been a good fight.

The weasels led him through the halls into the audience room, where he would meet the old one. Half the way one of his men closed the gap and whispered a very interesting thing in his ear. The weasel, he didn't bother for his name gave him a questioning look but he just grinned back at him.

They finally arrived at the audience room; an ugly place with a chair carved like the Twins on one end, and in it sat the oldest bat Bronn had ever seen, at his side a young woman, likely his wife. 'Dirty old man' A man with a pink coat stood in a corner, and of course more weasels populated the room, they were like a plague.

"So, and who we have here?" The bat asked and drivel dropped from his mouth.

"'And who we have here' my Lord". I am not one of your bastards you can order around or maybe fuck as you wish. You sit in front of the Lord of Silver Vale and an envoy of the King, show some respect." Bronn answered in the most impertinent tone he had, he was the more powerful man in this room and he wanted them to know. "You should kiss my hand, but I am afraid I would be disgusted, so I will let it go, this time" He ended his little play with a smirk, the bat looked like he would attack him, so he continued, in a highfalutin and provocative voice. "Our so beloved King, or better the beloved old, may the gods give him rest, and the even more beloved new King sends me to collect all your prisoners, all of them. You have to bring them to me immediately." The bat looked very displeased by his tone and he added. "And I hope they are unharmed, for your own sake."

"Of course they are, they are also very valuable, so we should talk about our rewards first." The bat pointed with his wizened arm to the man in pink "I am sure Lord Bolton has the same wish."

'Oh this will be fun'

Bronn took a more comfortable position and crossed his arms over his chest. "Of course, of course, the King is very grateful for your efforts in matter to end the war and your proof of loyalty pleases him, especially in view of your past. And he would hate to doubt your loyalties again. After all you just fulfil your duties as loyal men of the realm, or?" Bronn twinkled to the bat. His lips were only a thin line and Bronn could see his knuckles were white because his firm grip at his armrest. The man was angry.

"And If I refuse to give you my prisoners?"

Bronn grin was even wider now, he waved with his hand and a bard stepped forward, Bronn brought him from King's Landing especially for this.

"I don't think this is necessary" The pink man spoke in understanding, it was the first time Bronn heard his voice but it was already too late, the bard started with the 'Rains of Castermere'. Bronn moved his foot in the beat of the song, watching the old man getting more and more restless on his nice chair.

"Enough, enough" Walder Frey screamed at him but Bronn waited a few minutes until he gave the signal to the bard, he wanted to extend his example of power as long as possible.

"There are twenty thousand men with Randyll Tarly and another ten thousand with Daven Lannister, eager to visit your nice little bridge." This silenced the bat for now. The song told everybody who heard it what happened to them if they displease a Lannister. Frey realized he and his kind would hang from their bridge if he wouldn't obey.

"I will give you my prisoners." Bronn knew why he consented so fast, normally the bat had fought more but there was something else, his man had already told him in the hall.

"And I want the wolf pub" Bronn demanded, Arya Stark. It seemed the Hound had brought her to the Twins, intending to get a reward for bringing her back to her family. To his bad luck they had caught him and his reward had been his nice spike above the gate. Bronn couldn't care less for the girl, but was sure the Imp wanted all Starks. "I demand everybody from the North and the Riverlands, men, women, children, even wolves"

"I am afraid the pub is already married to my son Elmar, so she can't leave" The bat told him with a satisfied grin. Bronn knew that, he could say something like that the betrothal wasn't valid because the Starks had been traitors or some lordly bullshit, but he just grinned and said.

"She is a child, I am sure she didn't bleed yet, luckily for your son. I will take her with me, the marriage undone or as widow, I certainly don't care and Lord Tyrion doesn't care either." Bronn looked to the bard, he wanted him to play again if the bats answer would displease him, but it did not, well for the Frey. Bronn had offended him, but Frey knew he and Bolton were alone, he had slain the guest-right, nobody would help him, so they depended on the King's mercy or his Hand's. Bronn would have laugh, but didn't want to poke the weasels too often, better not risking too much.

Bronn was pleased with himself, he gave the orders, from Kings Landing, to the men. Frey had to stay with his men at his bridge, getting nothing. He wouldn't be able to have good relationships with any Lord in the Kingdoms any more. Bolton was supposed to march to the Neck, but was not permitted to cross it, he had been ordered to wait for Randyll Tarly and the commander the Imp would send. Bronn chuckled by the thought of a traitor like Roose with a man like Tarly, he would pay to see that, and of course when the young wolf would arrive to lead the army north to take Moat Cailin Bolton was screwed.

His meeting with Robb Stark, the milksop of King in the North wasn't so pleasing, he accused him and didn't want to leave with a man who had orders from the man who ravished his sister, Bronn saw no use in correct him and told him he would come with him if he wanted or not. His damned mother was even worse; she tried to kill him with her glare. Not to mention this gigantic wolf of him.

'Damn this will be a long journey'

The ArchCouncil

Archmaester Perestan sat down at the round table and laid his copper mask in front of him. He wasn't the last to arrive, he never was. Ocley sat to his right and Nymos to his left, a satisfying seating arrangement. They were in the highest room of the Citadel, the council of the Archmaester. Seneschal Theobald sat on the other side of the table in the large chair of the Seneschal. Perestan pitied the man with the lead mask in front of him, to be the Seneschal was a duty nobody actually wanted, they had chosen Walgrave for this year but his infirmity had made it impossible for him to fulfil the duties of a Seneschal. Theobald had had to replace him.

Perestan leaned back at his seat and looked around, Ryam and Garizon were already there, also Norren, the old Seneschal, lucky bastard, he couldn't be elected in the next few years. Perestan on the other hand could be next. This would mean he would have to interrupt his studies. Harodon and, to his eternal grief, Mollos were already there too. He hated Mollos, the fool claimed the world would be more than five hundred thousand years old, this predication was ridiculous, the world was, according to his own measures, only forty thousand years old, not a day older, and he had never been wrong in his life. Ebrose, Cetheres and 'Vinegar' Vaellyn had also arrived before him, this would be funny; Vaellyn's acid tongue was always a great amusement.

Guyne, Gallard, the impertinent Benedict, Zarabello, Agrivane, Harodon, Willifer and Castos arrived short after him. The idiot Walgrave wouldn't attend to the meeting and to Perestan's joy the Mage Marwyn was missing, or better he locked himself up in his solar. Magic, an old and useless field of study, especially since the ArchCouncil had decided that magic should be destroyed, rather than used to follow the 'Cause'.

They had studied it, back in the old days, yes, first they had thought it would be helpful for the 'Cause', but after they had realised it wouldn't, they had decided to study it but not use it. You have to know what you want to destroy. It was a necessary evil, but eventually magic had to end and all its outgrowths, like dragons, Mages and the Children of the Forest. This was a human world, these abominations didn't belong here. Luckily the Andals made sure of that, with a little help from the Citadel of course. Nothing could exist without knowledge and they were knowledge, pure and perfect. Marwyn and his pears were just fools, working at something nearly dead.

After all had sat down, with their masks in front of them, Theobald intoned the words, spoken before every meeting since the old days.

"Here we are collecting the knowledge of everything, guiding the human race, protecting them from the darkness, since the days of the five wises. For the Cause." All Archmaester lowered their heads and spoke, like in one voice.

"For the Cause" This ritual let Perestan feel excitement in his fingers, he loved it, they were Maesters, they had the power, and nobody knew. The fools believed they were just weird men with their noses in books, helpful as their servants, but they didn't serve them, they served the 'Cause'.

"We have a lot to discuss today." Theobald started to introduce the topics. "The Imp sent us a raven, he still demands Pycelle's dismissal or he will do it himself."

"He can't, only we can depose a Grand Maester." Willifer, who sat three seats right of him interrupted.

"This is not quite right" Perestan started to lecture his colleague, he was the Archmaester of history and his knowledge were gigantic, so it was his duty to correct him. "Grand Maester Gerardys was dismissed by the King..."

"You mean the King's dragon" 'Vinegar' Vaellyn interrupted him with a smirk. Perestan didn't like it; Vaellyn was Archmaester of astronomy what right had he to interrupt him in his field of expertise?

"Yes, he fed him to his dragon." He replied with as much venom in his tone as possible.

"The Imp threatens us to send him back to us in a sack" Theobald added.

"So why shouldn't we send somebody else?" Perestans friend Ryam asked. "Pycelle is a fool, like our nice Mage, he is only interested in molesting little girls. We should bring him back and send a better man. Pycelle is the least of us and in times like now we need somebody better, more qualified." He was right Pycelle was the least of them, and yes he preferred little girls a guilty pleasure not suitable for a Maester.

"He can have Walgraves position, we should have good relationships with the Imp. He will practically end the war of the five Kings on his own when he makes peace with North and Riverlands. Through his marriage and birth he will hold enough power to do like he wants, we should seek his help. For the Cause" Zarabello spoke, getting an outraged glare from Benedict who had to add

"It was never the war of five Kings, Lord Renly died before Greyjoy crowned himself, and do I have to remind you, Walgrave is still alive." Yes the war, Perestan wore the chopper mask he had to decide and five Kings were better.

"A circumstance we can change very quickly" Ebroses soft voice made itself heard and he gave the round an evil grin. Everybody thought he would be a friendly man, nobody, except of his students, knew he opened living human bodies to understand them. Perestan didn't care, he respected the healer, he did the right thing, knowledge was worth every sacrifice, and they had been just streetrats.

"So it will be, Pycelle will come back and we send another one to replace him. To the next topic, the dragons returned, something we can't tolerate. We must kill them, but how?" Yes the dragons had been back thanks to this godsforsaken Targaryen, Daenerys, it took years to poison the last and prevent the Targaryens to breed new.

"We should work with our faceless friends across the narrow sea, they want them dead too" Gallard suggested "We should send an envoy and discuss the matter with them before we decide more." All, including Perestan lowered their heads in agreement. It was a good plan.

"We also should contact Lord Tyrion, we could need his help and his money, after all he has an interest Daenerys Targaryan never reaches Westeros and burns all the traitors." Norren proposed.

"We will send an envoy to him. Or better, the new Grand Maester can talk to him when he comes back to King's Landing, we have time." Theobald ended the meeting with a wave of his hand. Perestan was glad he could return to his books. He rose from his chair but was stopped by Theobald's gesturing, Ryam was invited to stay too. "Perestan, you will replace Pycelle and Ryam, I send you to Braavos." Perestans jaw dropped, 'oh no.'

Fire Nation

Zuquid, apprentice of the faith of R'hllor rose from his pallet in the Academy of Asshai. Mufti Ihron had called for him. He put his long red robe on and walked out of the door; he paced the arcades of the Academy and headed to the central tower. The Academy was built out of red painted ebony like all buildings in Asshai. The city was as old as the world itself and the richest nation of all, thanks to the blessings of R'hllor. The council of the fire, the ruler of Asshai and the religious leaders of the faith of R'hllor, show this wealth with the golden roofs of the city. He climbed up the stairs to Mufti Ihrons chambers when he looked outside a window and marvelled the Jadeharbour at the Jade Sea, they all came to Asshai to buy amber and dragonglass, to practice magic or pray to R'hllor. It was Asshai where he revealed himself to the world and gifted his followers with his blessing. But only the children of Asshai could use them properly, all other were just imposer, false prophets.

He reached the chambers of Mufti Ihron, the old corpulent man sat cross-legged on the floor of the balcony, his long white hair arranged in a knot on his head. Zuquid on the other hand wore no hair, he was just an apprentice and he had to hide his black hair until he reached the next step, it bothered him because his amber eyes looked better with hair framing his head. He was twenty three years old and in a few days he would become a Teacher, the next step on his way to R'hllor, he assumed this was the matter the wise old Mufti wanted to discuss with him.

Ihron gestured him to sit down and offered him a cup of tea. Zuquid took it with a respectful bow of his head, he wasn't supposed to speak, just to obey, this was the lot of the apprentice. They stayed in silence for a long time; Zuquid occasionally took a sip of his tea, his eyes lowered to his feats.

When the Mufti started to speak, his voice was low and calm, Zuquid gazed at him, his face was calm but his eyes stern and he saw the fire in Ihrons golden eyes.

"I will send you to the West; the fire revealed me the next night will come soon." Ihron looked to the shadow behind the golden roofs of the city, the constant reminder of the powers of the Great Other, the greatest threat to humanity. R'hllor protected them but only if they were loyal to him. "They don't know what is true, they think Azor Ahai is supposed to lead, but he has to fight and follow, this is his destiny. I will give you a copy of the scroll of R'hllor, you must teach them." He should teach them? "You must find the large shadow married to old blood, they will be able to help you, he can lead you to the secret prince and Azor Ahai will reveal himself. It is crucial for the world that the hero fights." Zuquid knew that, as a child he learned the prophecy of Azor Ahai and in the Academy he learned the rest. "You also have to find the one who follow the old kings. But be aware, wrong prophets are in the West, they claim to speak for our god but have no real knowledge, and they make wrong prophecies in their advantage and burn the corpses of the Old. They fight wars in the name of R'hllor, not knowing that the true believer never despise the one who believe in other gods, we have to respect them, no matter what. R'hllor judges the men, not we mortals. The one god is enraged about them, you have to kill them, burn them. They have burned so many, denied them the truth, did it without right or understanding. Protect the Old and they will help you, you need their help and the help of them who worship their spirits or the Great Other will succeed and the world will fall into darkness again. You must guide them; show them the truth and their true history. All parts must be at the right place or we will lose. The ice and salt must hold or the fire will be drowning in the melting water. But this is not all; you have to kill the one who is dead, pale on a throne which isn't his before he corrupted the soul of the innocent, the one of the kind of the leaders. Lightbringer already is forged again but its steel was drained in blood of his owner, the magic of the steel is drained, so you must find a way to refill it. I'm sure R'hllor will show you the way. From now on you are a teacher, go now and fulfil R'hllors will." With this words he gestured Zuquid to leave, he was shocked, he the Teacher of the old bloodlines, he hoped he would be ready. He would go to the Jadeharbour tomorrow and find a ship to the West, he hoped he would be fast enough, or all would be lost.

The grass hiding the snake

Doran Martel watched the murder of his sister, Gregor Clegane, from his balcony. The giant was on his knees chained up at the scaffold. His trial had been short, but Doran had made sure it had been fair, the Mountain had told everything and know this would be his end.

Lord Tyrion had hold his word, it surprised him because he most likely knew what the man would tell them, he had confessed the murders had been ordered by Tywin Lannister, everybody had suspected this, but now it was official. But it didn't matter anymore, Tywin Lannister was dead, and the Mountain would follow his master soon.

Doran adjusted his position in his wheelchair, every move was painful. He gazed to his daughter, Arianne stood at the side of the tribune. He could recognize something in her eyes he didn't like. Arianne was his heir, but she didn't understand what this meant. She thought he had left her in Sunspear and wouldn't train her, condemned her to celebrate feasts. She didn't realize he wanted her to learn on her own, she should observe the men he left in the city during his time in the Watergardens, she had been supposed to observe and learn, some time, soon she would be alone, he would be dead and she would have to do everything alone, he couldn't treat her like a child. He hoped she would figured out what he did, but she just acted like a rebelling girl, he might made a mistake, but Oberyn had assured him she would learn, he just had to wait.

He wished nothing more than to tell her from his plots, but she was young and wouldn't be able to keep the secret, somebody would find out and Dorne would be in danger. She was a blabbermouth, to over credulous. Doran hoped she would change before she could do anything stupid like crowning princess Myrcella, it would mean war, the end of Dorne and the death of the innocent child.

Dorne couldn't win against the rest of the realm and now with the winter coming the temperatures would fall, even in Dorne and their mightiest weapon, the sun would be useless. And the children, Doran always feared the innocent could suffer and he didn't want that. Arianne wanted to bring Trystane and Myrcella to the execution but he forbad it, they shouldn't see something like that at such a young age.

The executers positioned themselves behind Clegane, their spears in the air. They waited for his signal, in pain he raised his hand and let it fall back down. The two men leaded their spears down on Cleganes scapulae and pierced his body with their spears. Doran saw the spearheads appear out of the Mountains chest, he struggled and screamed fighting his death, but finally it ceased and he was dead. Doran exhaled in relief. 'Justice' not revenge but justice, the monsters was dead, Elia could rest in peace.

They would drag Clegane's body in the desert and let him rot in the sun, it was over, Spear and Sun the weapons of Dorne ended the monster. What now?

Doran had thought about ending the Lannister line, but were they really guilty, no, the Imp had just been a child when King's Landing had been sacked and the new King hadn't even been born, neither his sister. Maybe it was best to let it go, peace would be the best, he would send a messenger to Quentyn and order him to come back, there was no use of war and Targaryens. He would retreat to the Watergardens and spend his last days in peace, Dorne was save, his children and the children of his Bannermen were save, Dorne wouldn't have to fear and there was Justice for his sister and her children. He was tired, tired of plotting, tired of revengeful thoughts. Trystane liked his finance and Arianne could marry a suitable husband if she wanted now. Maybe it was for the best, and if not, he had some cards up his sleeve to secure everything.

The faceless leader

He was nobody, they all were nobody, he walked in the meeting place, all of his brothers and sisters were there, all of the faceless men in the city of Braavos. They had much to discuss, the many faced god demanded a great sacrifice from them all. And they would happily give it to him. He raised his hands and spoke to them.

"Brothers, Sisters, we meet the greatest threat since more than one hundred years. The dragons returned and we must face it." A mumble rose but he silenced it quick. "The valyrian madness will come over the world again; slaves will suffer, so we have to bring the gift of mercy to the dragons and their mother. She may claim to free the slaves and would bring justice, but the men of Astapor, Yunkai and Meereen revealed the truth. The Targaryan Madness is deep in her body, formed by incest, we must bring the gift to her before her madness brings the valyrian plague back over the world." The girl actually wasn't the greatest thread, but the dragons were, even if she wouldn't go mad her dragons would survive her and this meant they could be used to enslave the world again. "One of us is on his way to provide us with knowledge to bring them down. But you must leave now; find the one that helped the valyrian blood to rise so high, bring them the gift of mercy and everybody who helped them." Like one man the men of the crowd raised their right arms.

Braavos was the bringer of peace, the gift, liberator of slaves, but dragons could destroy that all, the shadow council had to stop that. The Iron Bank, the Sealord and the Faceless Men, they would fight together, like they always did and the dragons would fall. Nobody had already sent a man, some time ago, hoping to find the eggs and destroy them; he hadn't succeed and was now in Westeros, following another led, searching knowledge. But this wasn't enough, the Faceless man would deploy and kill the men loyal to the Targaryen, bringing them the gift and the world would be safe again, all in name of the many faced god.

Later nobody met with the envoy of the Knowing, the man hide his face behind a golden mask. He could understand that. The Knowing were descendent of an old group, fighting a Cause he didn't know of, but he knew they hated magic and even if the Faceless Men use a sort of magic they had a common enemy at this time, the dragons. They would stand together to fight them, at least for the moment.

The two Roses

Garlan Tyrell watched his sister playing with her little husband. She had presented him with some cats and the little King loved them, he named them Ser Pounce, Lady Whiskers and Boots. The boy was adorable and, to his relief preferable to Joffrey. The two new members of the Kingsguard kept watch, Ser Willam Wythers, former captain of Margaery's guard and Ser Hugh Clifton, both were loyal to his house and had found the approval of the Lordcommander. Yes, these were the few peaceful hours he had in King's Landing.

The Queen-Regent grew more and more unpredictable every day, first she had announced this ridiculous small council, instead of naming the best she had decided to name Lord Harys Swyft Hand of the King, Orton Merryweather the foolish Lord of Longtable Master of Laws. No, he was Justicar; this crazy woman had renamed all the post with the word 'Master' in them. Her megalomania was not funny anymore. He was now Lord Treasure and the new 'Grand Admiral' was the Bastard of Driftmark, Aurane Waters, a joke of a man, a Velaryon bastard. Surprisingly for Garlan had been Lord Varys's dismissal, it seemed she hadn't liked him and gave the post to this creepy grandfather, Qyburn. Nobody knew where Varys was by now. Sometimes Garlan thought he and Oberyn Martel were the only sane persons in the council.

Garlan still couldn't believe he was glad to have a dornish sitting next to him. Grand Maester Pycelle had been called back to the Citadel. Archmaester Perestan would replace him, a history teacher. And then The Queen's Regent had sent her brother away to siege Storm's End. Ser Jaime had nearly fell asleep during the council meetings, he hadn't been suited to rule but now there were nobody to control Queen Cersei. The King only cared to use the royal stamp; Tommen followed the councils bidding without a word. Margaery tried to give him more self confidence but with such a mother it would take time.

The Queens regent acted totally crazy; first she had burned down the tower of the hand, just for fun. He thought maybe she had been bored, so Margaery had tried to calm her or better distract her with Taena of Myr, Lord Merryweather's wife, but it had only gotten worse. It seemed Lady Taena would prod the Queens Regent. And her decisions were horrible, since the Kingslayer was out of the city, she had actually allowed Waters to build a fleet of dromonds and he had to find the money for this madness. Sometimes he had the urge to kick the Imp in his manhood, his position was the most gruesome of the realm and he hadn't warned him. But even worse was the Queen's Regent's treatment of the Iron Bank, she had just said them she wouldn't pay any more and now they demanded that everybody paid his debts back, the realm was practical broke. And as long as Lord Tyrion hadn't arrived at the Rock he couldn't ask him for money, it was helpless.

Garlan really wished Tyrion and Sansa Lannister would be back, not only because of the Queen's Regent's madness. Her fear of her brother would be helpful to stop her, no Lord Tyrion was able to rule with sense, and he maybe could stabilize the realm. His retreat had been the worst that happened to the realm since Joffrey's reign. But he also wished for Sansa to come back, she would be good for Margaery, she hadn't recovered totally from the torture Joffrey had put her through and neither he or one of his cousins could help her, they didn't understand, they couldn't understand what happened to her, but Sansa was able to understand, she had already helped her and Garlan believed Margery needs her.

He also wished someone would deal with the sparrows, since the old High Septon had died the city was filled with them. The 'mad' Queen allowed this religious fanatic of new High Septon, who was elected by the 'Most Devout', to restore the faith militant in exchange for the debts the crown had. How stupid could a person be? She most likely thought it would be brilliant but now the Faith had with the Warrior's Sons and the Poor Fellows an army of fanatics who could destroy the fragile balance of the realms religions.

It was a mess and Garlan feared the Queen-Regent would act against them now, to bring more chaos. She blamed Margaery for Joffrey's death and she wanted her away, wanted to be Queen and ruler. Maybe he had to beg Lord Tyrion to come back, all for his sister.

**I hope you liked it, I needed the entire week, I will update not so often than in part one but as often I am able to**

**When I wrote this chapter I planned to add Lysa Arryn but decided not to, let's just say she isn't pleased with Littlefingers faith but against my first plan she won't act**

**The problem is I don't have a female POV in this chapter, but the next is all Sansa, promised**

**Sorry if I spelled something wrong, just point out and I will fix it**

**Don't pity Arya, I want a scene with her and Sansa and so I need her at the Rock, hope you didn't mind the dead Hound**

**Yes we will see Randyll and Roose**

**Please review, I need feedback to know if you really liked it, especially about Garlan and Doran**


	21. Chapter 21

**Hi folks**

**This chapter is for all of you who showed me their support the last days, especially in my hours of doubts**

**Special thanks to Susan, anon, Freelance Fanfictioner and Krima**

**This chapter has a slightly different style than the rest, I had to describe their journey, and cover two month, next will be old habit again**

**Revisited 09.05.2013**

**I own nothing**

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Sansa leaned out the window of the carriage and marvelled the countryside of the Westerlands. This was her new homeland, the land she would rule with her husband. Their carriage had passed the Westermountains and she could see the Sunset Sea, the view was magnificence.

They had already been two month on their journey to Casterly Rock, following the Goldroad west to the sunset sea. Much to her joy the entire journey had been refreshingly peacefully. Sansa and Tyrion had used a carriage instead of riding, none of them liked to ride, it had been relative comfortable. The carriage wasn't as large as the one King Robert had used on his fateful visit at Winterfell, but it was still drawn by ten horses and the inside was equipped with silken pillows and a second cabin with a large bed for her and her husband. It had taken some time for Sansa to get used to the rocking of the carriage, caused by the lumpy road, but now, after nearly two months, she was used of it. The first days had been the worst, she had felt sick and her face had turned, at least according to Tyrion green, but she hadn't been the only one, Jeyne, Pod and even Tyrion hadn't been very well, and his face had been green too. To her luck their retinue had stopped every night and had built a camp, so they had been at least able to sleep without this rocking and Sansa had been thankful for a peaceful sleep.

They had travelled with a large party, all Lannister soldiers, except of five thousand Tyrion had left in King's Landing to secure the city. Tyrion was the Lord of Casterly Rock so he had to travel with a large party anyway, but they also would need the men for the invasion of the Iron Island. They also brought the corpse of Tywin Lannister back to the home of his ancestors, or better his bones. His flesh would have rot during the journey so the silent sisters had taken care of it and only his bones remained. Sansa wasn't sure what they actually did, but after she thought about it very carefully she had decided that she really didn't want to know. But it had caused her to think back to her father and his bones, she had asked herself where they might been, Winterfell had been sacked by Theon Greyjoy and so she didn't know what they had done with them. But he belonged to their ancestors in the crypts of Winterfell that was for sure. Sansa hoped he would find his rest beside their family, it had been then she had realized she would never rest in the crypts of Winterfell, she was a Lannister now and Lannister lie in the Hall of Heroes.

Ser Kevan Lannister had travelled with them for the short first part of their journey, accompanying his brother as long as he could. Sansa wasn't able to understand how they had been brothers, they had been so different. She remembered Lord Tywin before his death, a cruel man hating his own son, Ser Kevan on the other hand was very quiet and friendly and treated Tyrion with a great amount of respect. He was friendly to her all time, but also impersonal, most likely because of his son Willem, who had been murdered in her brother's captivity. He had mourned for him and had seen in Sansa the kin of his murder. Sansa didn't mind, she could understand the man and hoped his attitude would change one day, she had had the same attitude towards Lannisters once. Ser Kevan had left their retinue to aid his son Lancel; he had married a widow in the Riverlands to become Lord of Darry, a castle at the Kingsroad. Sansa had seen the freshly appointed Lord only briefly in King's Landing before he had left. Ser, no, Lord Lancel hadn't fully recovered from the wounds he had taken during the battle of King's Landing, he had looked weak and sick. Sansa didn't really like him, he had just stood beside when Joffrey had ordered her beating and she couldn't forgive him for that. He had been supposed to be a knight, protecting the weak not letting them suffer, she pitied him because of his wounds but nothing more.

Sansa and Tyrion had spent the majority of their days in the carriage, it had been the upside of the long journey that they could spent so much time together. Back in King's Landing he had always been occupied with his duties as Hand, like ruling the Kingdoms and they had had only time for each other in the evenings. But now they spent nearly every minute of the day in each other's company. They had only been separated when Tyrion had been able to bring himself to mount a horse and rode up and down the retinue. He had spoken with the Lords who accompanied them; it was his duty to know his men and common sense to know what they had in mind. Tyrion had wanted to know their sorrows and judge their characters. He was the new Lord and needed to earn the respect of his men too. Listen to them and talking to them had been a good way to accomplish that, the Lords felt respected. Sansa was sure it would help Tyrion and even if his style was different to his father's, Littlefinger's half dead body, he was lodged in an open cage at the end of their retinue, ensured everybody that Tyrion wasn't weak. The soldiers started to like him too, he may was a dwarf, a person the most men in Westeros looked down at but his wit and the free wine he had bought for them had made him very popular.

During the time Tyrion had attended to his men Sansa had done her part as Lady of the Westerlands and had met the Ladies who accompanied their husbands to the war, there had been not many, but a few important like Lady Falwell. Sansa had already found a friend in Lyda Myatt back in King's Landing, but now she had met more and more highborn Ladies who wanted to be her friend, no matter how many years they were her senior. Sansa had been trained for that, she had been in her element, she had sow with them, or had invited them to a cup of wine in the carriage, The Ladies had appreciated it, had they to travel on chariots or on horses, not as comfortable as Sansa did. But she was careful who she called friend, the majority of them wanted her favour so their husbands could rise higher in Tyrion's favour. Something Septa Mordane hadn't trained her for, sycophants. She knew Lyda was one of them too, but not anymore, she really became a friend. Sometimes she had just spent her time only with Jeyne and Lyda, the young woman knew the gossip of every Lady in the Westerlands, it had been a vulgar but sometimes welcome pleasure for Sansa to hear all the dirty little secrets of such noble Ladies. She normally didn't interest herself with gossip but it had been a nice distraction, in small measures of course.

But the time with Tyrion had been the best, they had played Cyvasse, even if it had been hard to focus because of the rocking, the pieces had tend to fall of the board and sometimes Tyrion had tried to use this for his advantage, or when he had suddenly kissed her without any reason she had had to look if he had moved some pieces. It hadn't been a spirit of mischief, just a lovely bit of teasing, and she had always paid him back. They had also read his books, Tyrion had brought a gigantic library with them from Kings Landing, and he had introduced her to his favourite books. In that case they had lay on the pillows in the carriage, curled up in themselves and had read the 'book of the day'. He had told her about his fascination of dragons and how he had tended to dream of them. Sansa wasn't sure how to think about it, the dragons were dead, all of them. But she could understand why a boy like Tyrion had wished to have a dragon, she had never thought about wishing to have a dragon in King's Landing, maybe she should have.

Sansa enjoyed Tyrion company more than anybody else's, they had also experienced their marriage life further, Sansa had just learned about the pleasure she could gain out of it and hadn't wanted to put it aside. But they had had to restrict themselves with more than kissing, at least in the front cabin. Tyrions squire Pod and Jeyne had always been present and it had made them uncomfortable to watch them. Sansa had dragged Tyrion then into the back cabin and had let them wait outside, so she and Tyrion would be in private. But after the first night she had seen their faces and had had to suspect that they heard them and she had told Tyrion they had to be quiet. This hadn't stopped him to go further, Sansa had always imagined husband and wife spend only the nights together in that way, not the days but Tyrion had showed her she had been wrong, the rocking wasn't helpful but soon she hadn't mind any more, it actually aid them.

During the second day Sansa had tried to figure out what was in the packet Tyrion had hid from her, she had wanted to know what was in it, her curiosity had overwhelmed her. She had straddled his lap and distracted him with a long kiss and had tried to reach for the packed, without success. Tyrion who must have suspected her plan had turned her on her back and continued kissing her, caressing her, but in this position she hadn't been able to reach the packet any longer. It had been frustrating, she still wanted to know, but he hid it, during her second try she had noticed it hadn't been there any longer. All her tries to get Tyrion to tell her had failed, even her stern gaze hadn't been able to make him talk.

But this all had been forgotten when her Nameday had arrived. Although she had considered herself thirteen before, it had been official then. It had been at the fourth day of their journey and Sansa had realized she had been married to Tyrion only three weeks, not longer. She had felt happy, they had been troubled weeks but also good once and she had never imagined celebrating a happy Nameday only four weeks ago.

Tyrion had surprised her in the morning with a sumptuous breakfast in their bed and his present, a golden ring with a silver wolf and a lion on it, the eyes of the wolf were made out of diamonds and the lions eyes were rubies. He had also promised her an even bigger present when they would arrive at Casterly Rock. It didn't matter, Sansa loved the ring, it was like a metal made symbol of their union, Wolf and Lion. They hadn't left the cabin after that, spending some alone time until noon.

The rest of the ride at this day had been quiet; the downside had been that it gave her time to think about her family. She had missed them even more at this day, she had spent her last Nameday with her family and had been anxious to meet them again, at least the one who were still alive. She had mourned for her father, Bran, Rickon and Arya. She wanted to meet her mother again, wanted to hug her and that they would be a family again. She still didn't know for sure if she and Robb were already at the Rock. She never thought much about the possibility that Tyrion's plan could have failed, but there had been no ravens from Ser Bronn and they wouldn't get any during their journey.

After they had built a camp that evening there had been a great feast for her. Tyrion somehow had managed to prepare tables and chairs for all Lords and Ladies in their retinue together with a fife curse meal. The soldiers had lit a great fire and had placed the tables around it. Tyrion had seated her at the seat of honour and had seated himself besides her. All the Lords and Ladies had come to her, wishing her the best and had endowed her with their gifts. She found it great, she had always wanted something like that, they respected her, no, they loved her. She didn't know why exactly they did so, but for some reason they did. At this evening she had danced with Jeyne around the fire, Tyrion hadn't been comfortable to dance and so she had done with Jeyne, to the disappointment of all the squires in the retinue. Many of them had had their eyes on Jeyne, she was a beautiful young woman and nobody knew of her time in Littlefinger's captivity, many young squires had come that evening and had wanted to dance with her, but she hadn't wanted to dance with them.

Jeyne had been a constant source of worries for Sansa during their journey. She was to quiet, she shrank into herself, yes, she was introverted. Sansa didn't know what exactly had happened to her, the only thing Jeyne had told her had been that she had been in a brothel and had been trained as a whore. Sansa had tried to be a good friend, like she had been for Margaery. She had tried to calm her down, not pushing her to tell her story. But Sansa knew Jeyne had to talk to someone or she would never be better. Jeyne was easily scared, like a deer and had sat most of the time aside, starring at her feet. Sansa had noticed that she couldn't stand the company of men any more, at least not alone, that was why she hadn't wanted to dance with them at her Nameday, she was afraid to be touched, she flinched and searched corners to hide or hid behind Sansa. Sansa pitied her friend, she remembered how she had been during her fear of Joffrey but it had never been so bad, whatever Jeyne had been through it must have been awful. The only man she could stand was Podrick Payne, Tyrion's squire, maybe because he was more a boy than a man. The odd boy was similar to her in many aspects; he was shy and looked at his feet when he talked.

When Sansa had played Cyvasse with Tyrion Jeyne and Pod had always sat on the side in the carriage, starring at their feet in silence. But at rare occasions Sansa had been able to observe how Pod gave Jeyne a shy quick glance, never more than a second before his head had snapped back down and he started to blush slightly. Sansa has tried to bring them to talk to each other, without success, Tyrion had tried the same but Pod was to shy and Jeyne still feared Tyrion. Sansa had told her nearly every day she wouldn't have to fear Tyrion but the fear in her eyes had never ceased.

During their travel through the Westermountains their retinue had had to stop, because of a blockade a few miles ahead of them. To their luck it had been a wonderful autumn day and Sansa had decided they wouldn't wait in the carriage but go outside in the sun. They had found a meadow near the road and had settled on a blanked with some wine and food, a small homely picnic. Sansa and Tyrion had started to play a game of Cyvasse, lying on the blanked and enjoying that the pieces hadn't fell from the board when she had observed it.

Jeyne had stood nearby at a tree when Pod had approached to her; he just had stood near her, gazing at his feet. After a moment of awkward silence he had produced a bouquet of wild flowers from behind his back, he must have plucked them at the meadow. He had hold it in front of her, deeply blushing; his face matched the colour of his clothes. Jeyne had looked at her feet too, but after a short period of hesitation she had taken them and had murmured thanks to the boy. Pod, who had blushed even more, had nodded and left her at a hurried pace, he had looked a bit embarrassed. Jeyne had smelled on the flowers, burring her nose in them and had given the fleeing boy a small smile before she had continued to stare into the distance.

"Wonderful, now I have to find a new squire" Tyrion had told her with a faked expression of seriousness. Sansa, who had observed the scene with great interests, had turned to him with questioning look.

"What do you mean, this was really sweet." She couldn't believe Tyrion thought about holding it against Pod.

"I meant after this example of bravery I have to knight Pod" He had told her with a soft grin. "Ser Pod, the knight who stares at his feet. May his enemies will always be shorter than him" Sansa had exhaled a small laugh at this, he had been right, Pod had only stared at his feet, like Jeyne, it would be a miracle if they would look in each other's eyes any time soon.

"Jeyne always wanted to marry a knight; maybe you would help them, play the matchmaker?" Both had started smiling at her comment.

Sansa had leaned over the Cyvasse board and had given him a kiss, this kind of intimacies she liked best, they were so sweet, it was like she always pictured her marriage when she had been a child. And even if she only was thirteen in her eyes she wasn't a child any more, not since Joffrey.

When she had leaned back she saw somebody who caused a sourer expression on her face. It had been this man-woman, Brienne of Tarth. Sansa didn't like her, she still didn't forgive her for the accusations against Tyrion and in hindsight she regretted to let her travel with them at all. She had stood aside the meadow and had observed Sansa and her husband like an eagle, most likely waiting for evidence that Tyrion would force her to stay with him. It had been annoying, Sansa had already forbade her to approach her but maybe she had to order her men to keep her out of sight. The woman had claimed only her mother would be able to order her to leave and so Sansa hoped her mother would, after they arrived at the Rock.

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Finally they arrived at Casterly Rock, Sansa was anxious, after two month on the road she could see the stronghold of Tyrion's ancestors and it didn't disappoint her. The Rock was gigantic, a single mountain at the coast of Westeros and to his feet the city Lannisport. Sansa marvelled the construction of the castle when they approached it. Now everything would become even better, only a short period and she would see her mother again, it made her anxiously, only the gates to pass and her world would be whole again.

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At the Wall

Loras Tyrell hated it, he had had to spend two month on a ship and a horse to arrive at this godsforsaken place, and he hated the black, the snow and the white. 'The great Wall', a gigantic cliff made out of ice and a bunch of thieves as his new brothers. To his dread he had had to notice that Stannis and his men were at the wall when he arrived at Castle Black. He had immediately wanted to kill the man on spot, he most likely was responsible for Renly's death, Brienne of Tarth had been most likely only his pawn, he deserved the death, but not now. If Joffrey and his fate here had taught him one thing, than it had been patience, he would wait for the right moment and would kill this kinslayer.

After he took the oath his new Lordcommander came to him, Jon Snow, Ned Stark's bastard. He had been a member of the Kingsguard; his former Lordcommander was Jaime Lannister one of the greatest swordsman alive and now he had to obey this boy. The boy laid his hand on his shoulders and asked him in a serious tone.

"Did you see my sister, back in Kings Landing? How is she?"

This was what he wanted to ask?

"She is fine; she is married to the Imp." The boy had an expression on his face Loras couldn't read properly, a mixture of concern and hate. Knowing his feelings for his own sisters, Loras knew what to do.

"She is fine, she loves him, you know?"

"The Imp, it didn't sound like her."

"Maybe she changed, or you just don't know her as well as you thought, or the Imp" Loras put his hand on the boys shoulder. "She is fine, really and as far as I could see, happy."

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**I hope you enjoyed it, if yes or no, please review**


	22. Chapter 22

**And here I am again, thanks for your reviews**

**anon: But he is still a kinslayer and Loras hates him for this, and he has no real proof that Cersei's children aren't Roberts, hair-colour isn't really reliable, if my biology isn't that rusty there is a 1:4chance for Robert to have a blond child with a blond woman because of his Targaryen grandmother, maybe I find a way for him to survive, but I'm not sure, he don't fit my story, like Dany**

**Revisited 09.05.2013**

**I own nothing**

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Tyrion looked out of the window and beheld the most impressive castle he ever would imagine, Casterly Rock. Built by the Casterlys during the Age of Heroes and taken by his great ancestor Lann the Clever only by his wit, Casterly Rock was one of the greatest castles in Westeros, bar Harrenhal, maybe. The castle was carved into a single granite mountain at the coast of the sunset sea. His ancestors had added some outside walls, but overall the castle was hid in the mountain. From a distance a stranger to the lands could only see the balconies and the exposed brickwork, its looked like somebody had built walls to protect some caves or had built his houses in the mountain, but actually the Rock wasn't a solid mountain at all, it was traversed by corridors, caves and grottoes and at the bottom were hidden caves with a connection to the sea and even deeper in the earth were subterranean seas. Jaime once used to dive into them as a child. The castle was like an anthill but to Tyrion's relief much more comfortable. His uncle Gerion had always called it the lion's den.

It was his birthplace, the place he had grown up and it was the place of most of his best and his worst memories, his childhood with Jaime and unfortunately with Cersei, if he thought back to the bad times. There had been a time he hadn't believed he would get this castle even when it had been his right; his father had always denied him this. But since Jaime was a member of the Kingsguard this castle was his by right and law. His father had thought he would turn it into a whorehouse, he should see him now, no whores, no, a wife, who had thought that? He the Lord with a proper Lady at his side, one who love him, he had never thought that.

He turned to Sansa and noticed how edgy she was. He knew why, she was anxious to see her family again and Tyrion hoped she would, Bronn hadn't sent any ravens and that worried him more than he had believed it would. What if he had failed? If yes, because the Freys had killed Sansa's family or had done anything else to them his wrath would be indescribable, he would exert cruel revenge to those who brought sorrow upon her. Nobody should dare to hurt her. Tyrion hoped this wouldn't be necessary but if he wouldn't hesitate.

The Lion's Mouth came in sight and he already could hear the thunder of the sea when the waves came in the caves below the Rock. It had been a long journey and although it was over now and he was glad to sleep in a real bed again, instead of this carriage, a part of him didn't want it to end. He and Sansa had been happy on the road, no duties, no problems, just the two of them, spending time together. Of course there had been their little couple to be, Pod and Sansa's friend Jeyne. Tyrion had been impressed when Pod gave the shy girl the flowers; he had never suspected he would be brave enough for this. The boy wasn't potential free and Tyrion had hoped he would evolve his potential one day, but he had never thought so fast.

They passed the Lion's Mouth and Tyrion could literary see that Sansa was near an explosion of tension, she rocked on her seat and played nervously with her hair. He laid his hand on her knee and gave it a small squeeze.

"Everything will be all right Sansa, calm down, it will be only a short time and you will see them again. Look we are already at the gate." He rose from his seat and sat beside of her, embraced her waist with his arm. She looked a bit calmer now and his arm prevented her rocking.

"And what if he failed, what if they aren't her?" He voice was trembling and Tyrion heard fear out of it. He gave her a kiss on her cheek and told her in a hopefully calming tone.

"There is no use to worry Sansa, I am sure they are all right, who would be so foolish to make a Lannister his enemy when he has no friends left?" He added a smile to his encouraging words. "Sometimes ravens just disappear; this is no reason to worry." Tyrion hoped she would believe him, he certainly did not, he had to talk to Bronn about the missing ravens, this was unacceptable. But Sansa looked a bit better now and Tyrion saw hope in her eyes.

"Maybe you are right."

"Don't always suspect the worst outcome Sansa, allow yourself some optimism or you end up like ..." Tyrion actually didn't know such a pessimistic person "... let's say a dolorous person."

They finally passed the Lion's Mouth, the great gate of Casterly Rock, a lion head carved in the stone at the entry of a small cauldron which shaped a yard at the Lannisport side of the Rock. The carriage stopped in the yard and to his relief Tyrion recognized Bronn standing at the golden statue of Lann the Clever, together with his aunt Genna and the rest of the household. He had made it, yes!

Tyrion helped a visibly relieved Sansa out of the carriage, she had obviously seen Bronn too, and walked hand in hand with her to the waiting crowd. They all bowed their heads, even Bronn, and his father's castellan, his cousin Damion, approached them with a bright smile.

"In the name of everybody in the Westerlands I have the honour to welcome you home my Lord Tyrion and we welcome you my Lady Sansa, it is a long time since the Westerlands had a Lady and we are all very happy that you are here." Damion executed a second even deeper bow and Tyrion asked himself if he tried to reach his feet with his nose.

Tyrion turned to Sansa and recognized her tension again; he immediately gazed to Bronn with a questioning look in the eyes. The former sellsword gave him a quick nod together with a grin and Tyrion knew everything was all right. He exhaled his breath and gestured to Damion to come nearer to him.

"Am I right that Robb Stark and Lady Catelyn are our guests?"

"Yes my Lord, they are in the great guest chambers in the east wing" Sansa's face lit at this words and it made Tyrion smile to know that she was relieved.

"Then escort my wife to them" Tyrion let go of her hand and pointed in the direction to the east wing, Sansa turned to him and gave him a quick kiss before she followed Damion, or better ran after him, Tyrion could see her excitement.

After Sansa left Tyrion approached the household and gestured them to leave, he had no time for extolment and ass kissing, he had to talk to Bronn. The former sellsword looked different, he still wore black but the old material was replaced with much more noble fabrics and he wore more silver.

"You definitely smartened yourself up for today; I see where your money for ravens went to." Bronn smirked at him and took a different position, crossing his arms at his chest.

"This, this is nothing." Impertinent as always, but Tyrion liked it that way, he pointed to the portal.

"We have much to discuss, come on, I always wanted to work in my father's solar. You will have to tell me exactly what happened during your mission." Tyrion went to the thick oak doors, Myatt would take care of everything else, he had already instructed him to deal with the carriage, his baggage and the housing of everybody and of course of his father, he would join them after he had fulfil this task.

Tyrion reached the door when he heard a half stern voice from behind.

"So? Now you are the great Lord and have not a single moment for your aunt. Shame on you!" Tyrion turned on his heels and saw his aunt Genna approaching them. She was his father's sister, the fattest Lannister with a smooth face. Tyrion liked her, she was intelligent and shrewd, and she had some bad habits which made her even more likeable in Tyrion's eyes.

He gave her an apologizing bow and spread his arms.

"Genna, my beloved aunt." He was a bit embarrassed by his behaviour, he had totally forgotten to greed the family members at the Rock, but on the other hand Genna was the only one of them who didn't look down of him, and maybe Janei, but she was only two years old. "I greet you, and I have to give you my condolence for Cleos." He told her in a mourning tone, Cleos, her son had died during his journey with Jaime through the Riverlands. Tyrion could see how grief briefly appeared in her face but it vanished only moments later.

"Thank you, but I will have to talk to Jaime about him, and the question where his bones are, he deserves to rest in the Hall of Heroes." She averted his eyes briefly. "But he is not the only one we have to mourn for, Tywin is dead."

"Yes he is." They stayed in silence for a minute before Tyrion spoke again. "But now I must deeply ask your forgiveness, there is urgent business I have to tend to." Genna gave him a doubting look.

"Hogwash, you have time for me sweetling, there will be no discussion about that." Her sudden change of mood to jovial/stern surprised Tyrion and he was dumbfounded for a second. Genna gestured to Bronn and ordered him."You! Open the door and then follow us." Bronn gave her just a murderous glare; he wasn't used to be bossed around by a woman. "What is? Didn't you hear your Lord; he doesn't have much time, so come on." Tyrion exhaled audible and gave Bronn a gaze that said he should do what his aunt had said, it would be easier.

Genna walked with him through the halls of the Rock, they used the passageways at the surface, because there were windows and therefore daylight. They walked in silence for some time until Genna started speaking.

"I am very eager to meet your wife Tyrion, she seems nice, or at least what I saw from her, she is the new Lady and should attend to her people first."

"You know, she attends to her people right now, to her family" Genna gave him a small smile

"Yes, of course, but still, she shouldn't stay for too long. She has duties now, may very important duties." Tyrion stopped and glare at her angrily, Genna shouldn't lecture him.

"She will do what she wants, she is my wife and when she wants to spend the day with her family nobody will hinder her."

"Like I said" Genna murmured with a satisfied smile on her face, it was very catty for a person with such a smooth face. On Tyrion's questioning look she answered nonchalant "Oh, nothing. I just wanted to help. It will be nice to have another Lannister woman around, not only Dorna, Darlessa and the rest of them, or should I better say girl, I am not sure what you prefer." Now these so lovable habits backfire at Tyrion, wonderful. Genna never called a spade a spade and she never had to, after his mother's death she had taken over her duties, she had never had to assert herself, nobody in the Westerlands would question her authority or her influence. Tyrion had to admit he enjoyed this conversation with her.

"But, my dear aunt, you are no Lannister, you are a Frey." He teased her, well knowing how she dislike that. She never wanted to be a Frey, although she loved her children, her opinion of her husband was different, she glared at him.

"Don't remind me of my in inept husband." Tyrion didn't envy Emmon Frey, Genna bossed him around like anybody else, and actually nobody really liked him in the Westerlands. "And to top it all, the name Frey is outlawed in the civilized world now, thanks to you." She accused him, playfully

"Oh, this wasn't my plan, it was father's, I only added the 'don't kill them' part." Tyrion told her smirking and got his response without hesitation.

"They should have died, it would be better, for all of us. You could still do it."

"You want me to kill my wife's family, I am not a monster Genna, and I won't cause her such sorrow. And in my opinion it was better to let them live, for the realm" Tyrion grew more and more restless by the conversation he enjoyed minutes ago and the only thing Genna did was to chuckle.

"Like I said" She murmured again.

"What is it, Aunt" Tyrion interrogated her; Genna gave him a knowing look.

"You, my dear Tyrion are your father's son." Tyrion had no idea what she meant.

"I thought the resemblance were obvious, even if he thought only Jaime would be his son."

"Tyrion, Jaime smiles like Gerion and fights like Tyg and there's some of Kevan in him, otherwise he would not wear that cloak...but you, my freshly appointed Lord, are Tywin's son, his true son, you think like him, you act like he would have acted and you behave like him, except for your smiling and laughing, that is your mother in you, but you have his sarcasm. Your father may have never laughed and smiled only at occasions but I am sure he always had a witty comment in mind. I told him that once, I meant the son thing, and he didn't talk to me for half a year."

"Am I really like him?" Tyrion asked her with an uncertain tone. He hadn't liked his father and now he feared he would be like him, he didn't want to be like him. Genna gave him an empathic smile.

"You are like Tywin before your mother died, all good in him died with her but before that, I tell you. He was like you, especially when it came to Joanna, he would have done everything for her, and it seems you would do everything for your wolf."

"Kevan mentioned something like that, back in Kings Landing."

"Yes, my brother has his moments."

They followed the hallway some time without speaking; Tyrion had to think about what Genna just said. Was he really like his father? And if yes, did he want to be such a man? Since Kings Landing he had searched an answer for that question, maybe he had to talk to Genna about his father's behaviour before his birth, maybe she could help him finding an answer.

"You know Tyrion, you own me a caste, Tywin wanted to give Emmon Riverrun after the young wolf is defeated, so what now?" Genna broke the silence and brought him back out of his thoughts.

"I could give you Harrenhal" He suggested with a grin "It may be cursed but I am sure every dark entity would flee from you in seconds." She just gave him a disapproval glare. "Or maybe I could punish the Freys for their little initiative and kill all of them until your husband is the Lord of the Crossing, or do you want him dead too?" Genna rose an eyebrow

"Let me think of that" She smiled and stopped, they reached the door to his father's, no, his solar. "Here we are, enjoy your new room, but I expect you and your lovely wife to dine with me this evening." Tyrion wanted to object but she silenced him with a gesture of her hand. "I tolerate no dissent. You will eat with us. My Lord" She bowed slightly and left, letting Tyrion standing at the door.

His new solar was one of the most pretentious rooms in the castle, it was in the upper parts of the Rock and had a view over Lannisport; Tyrion seated himself in the large golden chair at the largest desk in the Kingdoms. Everything was coated with gold, but not as much as in the golden gallery, the throne room. Bronn took a seat on the other side, he had a satisfy smirk on his face.

"You look very pleased, I assume everything gone without problems, or did I send my wife to a mutilated family member?" Back at the yard it didn't occur to Tyrion that the Starks couldn't be in prime condition and he dreaded he had made a mistake. Bronn leaned back in his chair and started to talk.

"They are fine, even that wolf beast. The Freys didn't harm them and as a bonus I get the youngest She-wolf, this Arya." Arya Stark was alive?

"How?"

"It seems the Hound brought her there, I have no idea where he found her, and she didn't want to talk to me. But the Freys married her to this Elmar." Tyrion's face showed a concerned expression, this wasn't so good. Bronn raised his hands."But don't worry, I took care of it, the marriage is undone, and I believe the grieving ex husband is actually happy about it, you should have seen him." A problem less.

"So they are fine?"

"Oh yes." Bronn told him nonchalant "But they aren't happy." He leaned over the desk "If I were you I would start to dig a hole to hide from my mother-in-law, I think she will be the first to kill you, not this boyking."

"My dear Bronn, I grew up here, with my sister, you know our beloved dowager Queen. I know every little hole and corner where a man like me can hide, but I hope my wife will make sure that I don't have to."

* * *

**I hope you liked it**

**We saw Genna only briefly but IMO she has a great potential and I hope you like my version of her**

**Tyrion's smile, I think Tywin hated him not only because of his birth, I think he remembered him in some way at Joanna and he couldn't stand that**

**Damion was Cersei's castellan but I didn't want to make somebody up so, we will see more Lannister in the next time.**

**I have so much ideas for new stories with Sansa and Tyrion, I think I could write the next years, need anybody inspiration?**

**Maybe I need more time for the next chapter, Sansa and family could be difficult**

**Pease share your energy with me and review**

**Is never called a spade a spade right?**


	23. Chapter 23

**This chapter was hard to write, maybe the hardest so far, half the time I actually gave no idea what I am doing, I only went back to observations I made by my own sister**

**I wrote it, one of my longest so far in a few hours because I am anxious for the next, I already wrote notes on my study papers my docent might think I am crazy if he read this ;)**

**But still I hope you will enjoy it and won't hate me for it**

**Revisited 09.05.2013**

**I own nothing, like usual**

* * *

Sansa followed the castellan through the halls of Casterly Rock. She was anxious, her skin prickled and if she had known the way she would have ran ahead. She didn't notice her surroundings, it wasn't important to her at this point; her eyes were fixed on the man walking in front of her. She finally would see her mother again, it was like in a dream, she had always hoped to see her again, but back in King's Landing, during her darkest hours, she had thought she would never see her again, she had been certain her mother would die. She wasn't sure if she would have survived that, she had barely survived her father's death or the death of Bran and Rickon or the disappearance of Arya. She had only survived because she had hid her feelings inside of her, behind an armour of courtesies in order to survive. But not anymore, never again.

She noticed that the castellan, Ser Damion asked her something, but she had been too deep in thoughts to understand him.

"Sorry my Lord, what did you say?" She asked him, finally looking in his face, his hair and eyes revealed his Lannister origin. Tyrion told her about him, he was his cousin and Lord Tywin had appointed him castellan after Ser Daven had led an army to the Riverlands. The man gave her a smile and asked her in a calm tone.

"Pardon my Lady; I wanted to know if your journey was pleasant."

"Oh yes, it was. But two month on the road were a long time." He gave her an understanding nod and continued guiding her through the castle.

After a short period he stopped in front of a large oak door, flanked by two guards.

"Here we are my Lady, the chambers of your mother and sister; I can call for your brother to join you, if you want." Her sister? Arya was here, she was alive? Suddenly Sansa was overwhelmed by her emotions, she hadn't expected to see her sister, she hadn't seen her since the day her father had died. They hadn't part on amicable terms that morning, before the hells had started to open for her. How would it be to meet her? She couldn't name what she felt right now.

The guards brought her back, she didn't know why they were there and it worried her.

"Why are they guards standing in front of her door? I thought they were our guests?" She questioned Damion in a stern voice.

"I thought it would be better my Lady, I beg your pardon but not everybody is happy about your husband's arrangements and I thought it would be best. Only for their protection of course." The castellan told her explanatory, he wasn't very convincing and Sansa didn't like the idea of her mother as a captive.

"I don't think this is necessary, they are our guests Ser, you will send them away, and I don't wish that our guest think they are captives. Oh, and call for my brother." With these words the conversation was over and Sansa marched to the door, letting the knight standing in the hall with a dumbfounded face.

She stopped at the door, smoothed her red dress and wanted to push the door open when she felt a sudden tension in her belly. What if her mother didn't want her? She was wed to the enemy, and maybe even worst she had asked him to marry her, would her mother understand? Would Robb or even Arya understand? Could they accept her for loving Tyrion or would they condemn her?

There was only one way to find out, she gathered all her courage, pushed the door wide open and stepped in the chamber.

Sansa beheld her mother immediately, Lady Catelyn sat on a couch near a window and looked outside with an absently look in her eyes. It seemed she hadn't noticed that somebody stepped in her room, or pretend so. Sansa quivered in anticipation and her voice trembled.

"Mother?" Startled by the sound of her daughter's voice Lady Catelyn literally jumped to her feet and turned to her. Sansa and her mother looked at each other, not moving. Sansa's stomach felt like somebody sat a sack of rats free, she was itchy.

Her mother looked tired, her hair was desolate and she had dark rings under her eyes. Sansa didn't remember to see her like this any time before. Freeing herself out of her stiffness, she ran through her and embraced her neck with her arms, buried her face in her chest. She was here, her mother was here, she could touch her it wasn't a dream, she was real, and everything would be all right now.

"Sansa" She heard her mother's voice from above her and felt her arms coming around her. "My Sansa, you are here." Sansa couldn't hold her tears back when her mother laid her head on hers. It weren't tears of pain or misery; she had shed so many of them to know the difference, no, tears of joy.

They stayed like this for a while until her mother made her sit down on the couch and seated herself besides Sansa; she was leaning against her mother. All her emotions overwhelmed her and she tighten her embrace, didn't want to let her go, she feared it would be a dream and if she let go her mother would disappear into thin air.

"My poor baby," Her mother said in a soft tone, and she began to stroke Sansa's hair. "I thought I would never see you again, I am so sorry." She was sorry, for what?

"I am so glad to see you again." Sansa's voice still trembled a bit but out of joy. "I saw father, when it when it..." Her mother looked her I the eyes with a pained expression. Sansa's memories of her time before had Tyrion came back, how she had seen her father die and Joffrey's acts against her.

"Yes, I know, I am so sorry Sansa, for all you have been through, I should have never let you go. All your suffering and what you have to endure now."

"Endure Now?" Sansa asked in a soft but confused tone. "I am fine now, I mean I wasn't, for a long time, Joffrey, Joffrey was a monster and, and what he did..." Sansa started to sob, at these thoughts and tightened her arms around her mother, burying her face in Lady Catelyn's gown again. It took her a while until she gazed in her mother's face again. "But now I am fine, we all will be fine, Tyrion promised. He will make everything all right again." Her mother's face revealed she thought differs.

"How can you believe the man who did that to you?"

"Did what?"

"He ravished you, he, he married you, he is a Lannister, a vile dwarf." No, no, this wasn't true, how could she think that.

"He didn't do that, mother, he loves me and I love him." Sansa slightly distanced herself from her. Lady Catelyn gave her an empathetic look.

"Sansa, you are young, you don't understand." She tried to lay her hand on her shoulder but Sansa jerked away. "He married you for your claim, not for anything else, you were a hostage, you are a hostage and he, he..." Her mother searched for words but Sansa didn't let her.

"No, he didn't, you don't understand." Sansa had to control herself not to scream, tears fell again when she accused her mother of not understanding. "He saved me, he saved you and he will make everything right."

"Sansa he won't, he married you, a child hostage, he bedded you, good men don't do that, he is..."

"No he didn't, he refused, he didn't want to marry me against my will." Sansa was screaming now. "I made him, I asked him to marry me, to save me." Sansa was trembling and sobbing again. Her mother slowly approached her and hugged her again.

"Sansa" Her voice was calming, but Sansa saw the expression on her face, it was horror and disbelief. Sansa continued in a soft, trembling voice.

"They wanted to marry me to Gregor Clegane; I found out and asked him." Her mother's arms tighten around her. "He did it, but he never touched me without my permission, he was kind to me and gentle, he was the only one." Sansa distanced herself from her mother and straighten up. "And I love him, I really love him, he was good to me and still is, you will see." Her mother's doubtfully expression told Sansa she had to persuade her, but she was sure she could.

The door to a side room sprang open and a brown coated person stormed in the room.

"I heard screams, what happened." Sansa needed her time to recognize her sister Arya, her brown hair was shorter and she was even thinner than the last time she had seen her. "Sansa, is that you?" She asked her in an unbelieving tone.

"Yes I am; it is good to see you again, sister." She composed her face, wiped the tears away and gave her a small smile when she turned to her. Arya slowly approached her with an uncertain look on her face; she looked her up and down like a wolf would with his prey.

"Why do you wear Lannister red?" This was her question? After all she wanted to know why she wore red?

"Because I am a Lannister now, I am married to Tyrion."

"The Imp?" Arya grimaced by her words.

"Don't call him that."

"Why not?" "Because he is a good person and I am happy with him, that's why." Sansa recognized to her surprise how spiteful her tone was, it remembered her of the girl she had once been.

"Happy? You once were happy with Joffrey too."

"This was something else, Tyrion is good, believe me, both of you, please, believe me." Sansa turned with a pleading look to her mother. Lady Catelyn had a sad expression on her face.

"My poor child."

"No, I am not a child any more; I am a woman and the Lady of this castle." Sansa couldn't understand what their problem was, Tyrion saved them too, he would give Robb a pardon, why did they hate him, or did they hate her?

"You now, they married me to a weasel." Arya suddenly told her in an amused and light tone, she obviously didn't want to continue this fight.

"What did they do?" Sansa asked surprised.

"Lord Frey married her to his son Elmar, after she arrived at the Twins, despite the fact that she still was a child." Her mother explained to her and accented the child part.

"I spit him in the face during the vows and when he wanted to touch me that night I punched him so hard that I broke his nose." Arya told her proud and climbed on the couch between Sansa and their mother.

"You did what?"

"Yes, it was hilarious and he never tried to touch me again after that." Arya continued with a bright grin on her face "And what did you do?" Sansa was still a bit dumbfounded by Arya's story and needed a second to compose herself.

"I never had to do that, Tyrion is a good man, you know?" Arya looked exactly as unbelieving as her mother did; Lady Catelyn exhaled audible but didn't push the topic further. Sansa wasn't happy with the curse this reunion took. Why weren't they happy to see her, why weren't they thankful that they were safe? Didn't they understand?

Sansa wanted to start again when the main door opened and Ser Damion announced her brother. Robb walked at a hurried pace in the room and immediately came to her, he dragged her in a firm hug. He looked different too, he looked sterner and Sansa noticed battle scars, in some way he remembered her at their father. He kissed her forehead and smiled brightly at her.

"You are all right?" Sansa smiled back, finally a reunion like she expected.

"Yes I am, and you, I heard you married?" Robb took a step back from her and seated himself on a nearby chair.

"Yes I have," He averted his eyes, his tone was apologizing now. "And I am sorry to hear of your marriage." 'Oh no, not again.'

"Don't be, I am fine." She told him and took a chair next to him; she didn't want to sit on the couch again, at least not now. At his questioning gaze her mother made herself hear.

"It seems Sansa is in love with her husband, who is apparently a good and decent person." She told him in a doubtfully tone. This statement made Robb turn to her.

"What?" He spat loudly.

"Don't, I already tried, she doesn't understand." Her mother stopped him with a gesture of her hand. Sansa started to get angry again, she was no child any more, and her mother shouldn't treat her like one.

"No, you don't understand. He loved me and he brought you here, for me." Sansa spat at her mother, why was she so thick?

"Sansa we are hostages, didn't you see the guards." Robb interrupted their starting fight.

"You are our guests, I already ordered the guards to leave, and everything will be all right." She spoke in a calming voice to her brother, who looked just confused.

"What do you mean your guest and all right? Or with ordered them?" Sansa exhaled a small giggle and laid her hand on his shoulder.

"If you didn't notice, my husband is Lord and I am the Lady here. He brought you here to offer you a pardon. You can return to Winterfell, there won't be any repressions. Tyrion will help you defeating the Ironborn and then there will be peace. Trust him, or if not, trust me." She explained him joyfully. She could see that Robb wasn't convinced.

"And he had to kidnap us for that?" Sansa looked around, in each of their faces.

"Lord Tywin wanted you dead, all of you, without Tyrion you would be, and he would be Lord of Casterly Rock and Winterfell and Riverrun. But he didn't do it, because he love me, he rescued you for me, believe me he isn't bad. He is my husband and I love him."

After they overcame the shock of this revelation it went better, they told her what had happened to them and what they had done. Sansa was shocked to hear what had happened to Arya, how she had fled King's Landing and travelled on the King's Road north, what she had experienced. Robb told her of his battles and his wife, Jeyne. They mourned for Rickon and Bran, and Robb told her if he would get his hands on Theon it would be over for him. Sansa told them of King's Landing; Robb face was a grimace of anger when she told him of Joffrey and his Kingsguard. And to her sorrow nobody was likely to believe her when she told them about her and Tyrion, how happy they were. Her mother was cold, it hurt Sansa that it seemed she didn't understand her, Sansa had been so anxious to see her again in the morning and then that. She was disappointed and believed her face would show that too. It was uncomfortable to be with her mother, something she never had been. After a while Sansa excused herself, she wanted to go to Tyrion, she needed him right now, she would come back tomorrow and hoped for a second try.

-##-

A page guided her to her new chambers through the hallways of the Rock, it was another one of Tyrion's cousins, a boy named Walder, his family was definitely much bigger than hers. It would take time to meet them all. Sansa finally noticed the beauty of the castle, the corridors were carved out of the stone and tooled with ornaments, the doors were out of dark wood and had golden knobs and hinges, the servants wore red and gold, like rich merchants.

Sansa nearly fainted by the sight of her chambers, they were in the west wing with a gigantic glass window with a view of the sunset sea. She never saw such a window; even the walls of the glasgardens in Winterfell weren't that large. The sun was going down behind the sea and the chambers were bathed in red light. In the centre stood a gigantic bed with red silken pillows and golden bedposts facing the window. Sansa was glad to see that the servants had already unpacked her baggage and so she wanted to explore the rooms further when Tyrion arrived.

He looked tired, but his face lit up when he saw her. He approached her and took her hand, guiding it to his mouth and kissed it.

"How was your day Sansa?" She wasn't pleased with the day but didn't want to bother him, he most likely had more important things to bother about, she normally told him everything, but maybe not this time, not when he looked that way.

"It was, err, pleasant." Tyrion gave her a questioning gaze.

"You don't look like that; you look churning and not very happy. Sansa what is wrong, did anybody..." Sansa waved with her hand to silence him.

"NO, it is just … the reunion didn't go like I expected, they are so..." she was sad and her voice revealed that. Tyrion gave her hand a light tug and smiled reassuring.

"Sansa, I can imagine what happened, be patient and don't hold their attitude against them, they will believe you, eventually" He assured her in a calm voice. "But why didn't you want to tell me?" Sansa averted her eyes by his question.

"I didn't want to bother you; it seemed you have enough to do." Tyrion stepped nearer to her and gazed her in the eyes from beneath.

"Sansa, you will ever have the first priority for me, even if I have to fight the long night itself. I would hate if you think you should hold back, please, don't do that." Sansa felt better by his assurance, she was right, her mother was wrong, he loved her.

She lowered her head and gave him a kiss, this day maybe could turn better.

"And now to the bad news," Tyrion disclosed to her with an apologizing expression. "My aunt Genna insists that we dine with her and I can say I would rather fight a horde of white walker than to disobey her." So much to a homely evening. Sansa had actually hoped they could be alone, she wasn't use to be separated from Tyrion anymore and wanted to spend time with him alone. She gave him an understanding nod and he continued with a warning. "And please don't let her intimidate you, she has this habit, she would consider it as weakness when you didn't stand your ground." Sansa was confused by his words, stand her ground? "She is actually quite nice if you know her better, but she won't respect you if you don't show her that you aren't inept. And it happens that I know you aren't. Show her your strength and she will respect and like you."

'Lannister'

-##-

The dinner wasn't as bad as she dreaded after Tyrion's speech. Genna Lannister was a corpulent woman with a sharp tongue but not such an intimidating woman like he had said. Sansa was glad to finally see a fat Lannister, except for Tyrion all Lannister were skinny and similar to Ser Jaime or the Queen and she had dreaded this would be a standard for everybody, not that she had problems with her look but she also didn't want to be in a competition with the other about who is the most beautiful in the land. Sansa enjoyed the dinner; it was amusing how the Lannister matriarch bossed the servants and even Tyrion around. First she had asked her a few uncomfortable questions, but like Tyrion said she only had to talk back and Genna warmed up to her.

They ate alone, Genna had stated she could meet the rest of the family tomorrow after she had a good rest, but Sansa suspected she wanted to evaluate her before she let her meet the rest of the family.

After the hours grew late Genna asked Tyrion to leave, she wanted to talk to Sansa alone. He gave her a questioning gaze and she nodded, giving him an approving smile. Genna poured herself another cup of wine and offered Sansa the carafe. She took it and poured herself a cup.

"I think it is time to talk to you about your duties as a Lady Lannister." Sansa gave her a confused look and answered her in a certain tone.

"I know exactly what the duties of a Lady are." Genna smirked and shook her head.

"Na, Na, Na, I don't talk about the duties of a random Lady, I talk about what it mean to be a Lannister Lady." She lectured her in a cheery tone; Sansa on the other hand was confused. What did she meant? "You know, all male members of House Lannister have many bad habits, Tywin had more than other, but despite all differences they all have something in common, something you have to consider." Sansa was more and more confused and her expression showed that, Genna smirked again and continued. "All men of our House have a, let's say, certain characteristic. They all depend on their women, my father did, first with his wife and then with his mistress, Tywin did with Joanna and Kevan does with Dorna, and it looks like that Tyrion already depends on you." She paused to give Sansa a moment to process what she had heard, Sansa had never heard of that before. It was an interesting inside. "There is an old saying about Tywin, 'Tywin ruled the Seven Kingdoms, but was ruled at home by his lady wife.' This describes it perfect, all men of this clan love their women, depend on their affection and their approval, their advice. Tyrion will need yours, you will have to be his compass and you have to watch out his bad habits don't grow too dominant. He will listen to you, believe me. We Lannister don't have the best reputation concerning our behaviour, they say we are cruel, but this is because they never look in our bedchambers or the current Lord is without a wife. Lannister men respect their women more than you think." Genna ended and Sansa slowly understood. She remembered Tyrion's and her conversations and how he sought her council and she understood Lord Tywin better, if Genna was right the Lannister had much more under the surface than she had thought.

"I know what you mean."

* * *

**Please don't hate me**

**I think it is clear why I needed Sansa as a child and didn't age her up**

**To Lannister men: Just observe the relationships between Jaime and Cersei or Tyrion and Shae or Sansa in the books, or read Kevans last thoughts, IMO this is a good habit all Lannister seem to have, curious, isn't it?**

**If you have really problems with this chapter I accept constructive criticism and there is always the chance to rewrite it**

**Oh, Arya badass enough?**

**Please, I beg you, review**


	24. Chapter 24

**Hello again, long day**

**I am glad you liked the last chapter and hope you will like this too**

**Revisited 09.05.2013**

**I own nothing**

* * *

Tyrion waited for Sansa after the dinner with Genna, reading a book in their new bed. Their new chambers were his father's old, but he had sent a raven ahead and had ordered a completely make over, he hadn't the slightest urge to sleep in his father's bed. The servants had luckily organised a new appropriate bed in time, Tyrion already dreaded they wouldn't have been able to do so.

The day had gone smoother than he had expected, after his little talk with Genna he had attended to Bronn and his report of his mission. Tyrion wasn't pleased with Bronn's handling of the raven situation, but there had been no use of schooling him. But Bronn had fulfilled all his tasks after all; he had even found the men out of his nightmares and had taken discreet care of them. The sellsword hadn't disappointed him.

After that he had been able to attend his duties as new Lord, after two month on the road there had been a hill of letters and reports from the Westerlands to work through and if this wouldn't be enough, three dozen Lords, minor and major had wanted an audience with him. Tyrion had decided to work them through chronological. Ruling the Westerlands wasn't as much fun as he thought it would be. And after he would have meet with Robb Stark tomorrow he would have to work again. But he actually wanted nothing more than spending time with Sansa, they had even been able to play Cyvasse today and he already missed it. He had missed her every second of the day and his hopes of enough time this evening were destroyed by Genna.

The dinner with Genna had gone very well, Tyrion hadn't been surprise to observe that Sansa impressed her and he hoped Genna would accept her, but even if not, if she had rejected Sansa, he certainly didn't care, he would rather banish all of his kind than leaving her. His thoughts wandered to her and he couldn't concentrate on the book, he was certain he read the site in front of him for the fourth time when Sansa finally arrived at their chambers.

He immediately put his book beside and admired her appearance, she was as beautiful as always and to his relief she didn't look stressed at all, it seemed her private talk with Genna hadn't been as bad as he had dreaded. He had already feared the worst when Genna had sent him away that she would interrogate Sansa like a common wench, he had wanted to stay but Sansa had gestured him he hadn't had to.

Sansa approached him with a light smile on the lips, unfastening her gown on her way and letting it slid to the ground. In all her naked beauty she laid next to him on the bed and curled against him, he embraced her with one arm and pulled the blanked above them. Tyrion started to play with her hair, twirling it around his finger and she laid her head against his, closing her eyes with a peaceful expression on her face.

"And what did you discuss with my dear aunt?" He asked her in a curious tone. "I hope she didn't trouble you." Sansa traced her hand over his chest and opened her blue eyes again, gazing at him with a smirk.

"Oh no, she didn't trouble me."

"And what did you two talk about?" He asked her again, she just gave him a smile and kissed him.

"You are too curious." Now he was really interested, what could it possibly have been they had discussed?

"Yes I am curious, but this is not my worst habit." He sat up a little and looked on her. Sansa giggled and told him:

"Just Lady Talk, nothing what concerns you, my dear. But on the other hand, you will meet my brother tomorrow?" Her sudden change of topic indicated him she wanted to hide something, well he would play along.

"Yes, first thing in the morning, meeting with the 'King in the North'" He told her and emphasised her brothers title with a theatrical gesture, which earned him a disapproving look from her. Sansa shifted her body on his, their faces were on the same level now, nose to nose-scar.

"Please be nice" Her voice was light, but hinted more than just an appeal.

"Oh I always am" He told her with a smirk, but Sansa continued with a rather serious voice:

"I doubt that, I am afraid you two will try to kill each other tomorrow if you provoke him too much."

"I promise I won't" Tyrion cup her cheek and gave her an assuring smile which softened her features. "And now about this Lady talk..." Sansa stretched her body parts and exhaled a moan,

"Ahh, you really want to talk about that? We had such a long day." She said in a playfully voice followed by a seducing smirk "And we didn't dedicate our new bed yet."

-##-

Tyrion sat in his solar, waiting for Robb Stark, the King in the North. He had decided against the Golden Gallery, it seemed not such a good idea to offer his pardon and friendship to the boy while sitting in the Lion's Throne of the old Kings, the solar was more private and not so intimidating and Sansa said he should be nice.

Bronn sat in a corner, cleaning his nails, Tyrion wanted him to be there, in case his brother-in-law would really try to kill him, maybe Tyrion wouldn't be able to hold back, or perhaps he wouldn't want to. He remembered meeting the boy in Winterfell, impolite and rude, like a teenager, he knew why he had treated him like that by now, he had thought he had tried to assassinate his brother, but still, maybe Robb Stark would trigger something inside him.

He traced with one hand over the longish packet on his desk, it was wrapped with white wool to hide the shape. Tyrion had carefully hid it from everybody, even from Sansa, it was a special tool Robb Stark or he would use after this conversation, it had been created for that, he hoped Robb Stark would do the deed; it would be difficult for him.

The doors opened and Myatt led Robb Stark inside, the stocky build boy who clearly favoured the Tully side of his family wore his crone, an open circle hammered of bronze, incised with runes of the First Men, surmounted by nine black iron spikes in the shape of longswords. Tyrion had arranged that he got it back for this occasion; he was still a King until he died or bend the knee.

Robb's face didn't hide his anger or maybe even hate of him. 'Just be nice'

"Your Grace welcome, please take a seat." Tyrion gestured to the chair at the other side of his desk, while talking in a civilized and respectful tone.

"I prefer to stand, Imp!" 'Oh yes, a really good start.' The boy really didn't like him. Sansa's words became a mantra in Tyrion's head: 'Be nice' 'Be nice' 'Be nice'. The boy King took a challengingly position in front of his desk and crossed the arms over his chest, a provoking look in his eyes.

Myatt nodded and took a position opposite to Bronn, who glared at him with an rude look in the face, they didn't like each other, Tyrion believed to know that Bronn saw a threat in Myatt and Myatt thought the same about Bronn, Tyrion had to deal with this problem in the future, but not now.

"Can I offer you a drink, a cup of wine maybe?" Tyrion asked and gestured to his squire Pod, who wasn't the knight who stares at his feet yet.

"Do you want to poison me? Or do you want me drunk to bamboozle me?" The boy asked him in a provoking voice, glaring at him in utter disdain. This was already enough to trigger Tyrion, if the boy didn't want to be civilized, he could have that.

"I just wanted to be nice. You after all are related to me now. Oh, on this topic, may I call you brother?" Tyrion asked him with an innocent look on his face, the young wolf was visible angry but he must have noticed Bronn's sudden change of seating position and held on. "Then not, a pity. However we are here to discuss your pardon, granted by the Iron Throne and the reintegration of North and Riverlands in the seven Kingdoms. I assume you as King in the North are authorised to negotiate with me about this topic, or have you to ask somebody for permission?" Tyrion was satisfied to see the facial expression of the fifteen year old grew furious.

"We will never surrender to you, Imp, you Southerners won't cross Moat Cailin or have us on our knees. The North won't be yours." He barked at him.

"I see this different, my dear brother, you already lost, your homeland is occupied, you lost your castle to a bunch of pirates and nearly all your Bannermen are my prisoners." The mentioning of the word 'brother' made Robb Stark apoplectic, he approached Tyrion's desk and slammed his hand on the plate, the boy was in fury but luckily for Tyrion he was smart enough not to attack him, he sat in his chair, not moving a single muscle.

"You are a vile little shit. I will never negotiate with a rapist about anything." The boy hissed in his face.

"You are not very reasonable." Tyrion told him nonchalant, nipping at his cup of wine. "Maybe I should talk to your mother. Lady Catelyn always seemed much more reasonable, but on the other hand," Tyrion smirk in the King's face and made a vague gesture. "She let you play with a sharp sword, maybe not the best parenting, or proof of reason. Especially by such a young, cute little boy."

Bronn already was on his feet in case it had been too much, but to Tyrion surprise the boy took a step back.

"I offer you everything you could imagine, you just have to put down this crone and it would be like this war never happened." A snort escaped Robb's throat.

"So, you can give me my brothers back, my father, all the lives which were wasted in this war and my sister?" Tyrion knew this would come up, now was time for his best try to persuade the boy to negotiate.

"I can't resurrect the dead, and concerning Sansa, did she look like I chained her to my bed?" He asked him in a serious voice and spread his arms to emphasize his words. "I never forced her, you talked to her yourself, or did she say otherwise?" The boy's face lost a bit of his anger. "I offer you peace; I offer your Bannermen and soldiers to return home to their families, there is no reason for this war left. Joffrey is dead, my father is dead. I am afraid we are out of reasons to kill each other, and it is time to make peace. I will give you the guilty at all this, and help you to defeat the Ironborn, you can return home with your wife, your uncle can go back to Riverrun and the only thing you have to do is to take off this crone and accept my offer." Tyrion paused and gave the boy time to think before he continued. "We both were played in this war and if we continue only death will be the result." Tyrion inhaled and waited what the King would do. To his relief Robb Stark's face soften a bit and he took the seat Tyrion had offered him earlier.

"Speak, Imp, I will hear what you have to say."

It seemed the boy finally realized that he was out of options. Tyrion was glad he was ready to listen, otherwise it would have become ugly. He started to tell him what had led to the war, Jon Arryn's death, the assassination attempt on his brother and the 'false' accusations against his sister. The boy was unbelieving when Tyrion revealed Littlefinger's part in all this mess. How he had sent the assassin, had killed Jon Arryn and had tricked his father in believing Cersei and Jaime would have an affair. Of course he was unbelieving, Tyrion wouldn't have believed it if he hadn't interrogated the man himself.

"I don't believe you, why should Lord Baelish do something like that?" Robb asked him.

"I think you should ask him yourself, if you don't believe my honour." He offered him.

"You have no honour I could believe in, and I am sure Baelish would say anything to avoid the hands of your torturers again." Robb Stark sat in a defiant position in his chair, arms crossed over his chest.

"Then ask your sister, she will confirm what I said, how he tried to abduct and rape her, just think, why should I make such a story up? I am not a bard. I don't have to explain myself." Tyrion explained himself in a rather urged tone. "It fits, we were tricked into this war by this greedy lunatic, and he was it who persuaded King Joffrey to ignore Cersei's offer for mercy." The boy wasn't stupid and Tyrion hoped he could make him believe, he told him the truth, mostly. Slowly the young wolfs defiance fell, maybe he didn't totally believe Tyrion but in parts and this was worth a lot.

"So Lannister, what is your plan then?"

Tyrion had a triumphant grin on his face and swiftly took a sip of his wine to hide it, he had him, and now he would prove him he wasn't the monster he thought.

"I am glad you asked." Tyrion leaned back and fixed the boy. "First of all you will put down that ugly bronze ring of your head. It really doesn't fit your complexion. After that you bend the knee to my lovely nephew and be reinstated as Lord of Winterfell, Warden of the North, and all the other titles, your uncle gets his back too. There will be no repressions against your Houses. I will guarantee for that with all my power and men, if necessary." It was a great satisfaction for Tyrion to see the boy dumbfounded, he most likely expected other, and Tyrion had to compose himself not to grin to wide. "Randyll Tarly is already on his way to Moat Cailin with his army, he will wait there with your personal friend and Bannerman of the season Roose Bolton."

"They wait on what?"

"On the leader to retake the North, a very skilled battle commander who knows the terrain and who has my full trust to be able to deal with all the problems, like Iron born, Stannis and White Walkers, maybe some Grumpkins and Snarks, but who knows, and a member of my family." Tyrion told him theatrical "And in the meantime I will invade the Iron Islands and will occupy them, so the threat will be over forever." After his explanations he waited patiently for the response. The boy looked even more confused but also curious, a curious gaze which reminded him of Sansa, he suddenly was aware of their resemblance, he hadn't noticed it sooner and it made him uncomfortable.

"And who will be this so brilliant battle commander you will send, who of your dishonest and despicable family will it be?" Robb asked him in a spiteful tone. Tyrion smiled at him.

"I am glad you asked this way. You can't even imagine." He leaned forward over his desk and whispered. "It will be you." The boy's eyes nearly fell out of their holes by his words. "In my opinion it should be you. You can take your northerner who are still in the Riverlands, the Riverlands troops should stay home, they aren't very good fighters, and retake your homeland, revenge your brothers and smash the Ironborn. Tarly will help you and after that he will deal with Stannis, you can help him if you want, but don't have to. But please try not to hide under your bed because of Grumpkins and Snarks." The boy was still dumbfounded, it seemed he hadn't noticed the insult, and so Tyrion continued with his explanations. "I can't punish either the Freys or Bolton, I am sorry for that, but the Freys are despised by the rest of the realm by now and so I doubt they will enjoy their act." Tyrion told him unsatisfied by the situation.

"Concerning Bolton, you can't punish him for his treason but I am sure you find a reason to punish him otherwise, maybe he won't use a napkin or piss on the wrong tree, I am sure you find something." The boy looked suddenly offended.

"I am no Lannister; I won't kill him because of a loophole." Of course, Tyrion should have known that.

"Then not." He spat at the boy. "But maybe Tarly will do it. I've been told he hates traitors." The boy was clearly not satisfied with that but so may it be.

"And what is with Stannis?" He asked Tyrion.

"You won't have to fight him like I said, but he burned your gods so maybe you find it in your heart to fight him."

Robb Stark looked like he had found himself again, it seemed to Tyrion he had won and the boy would conceive. "And what know?"

"Put down your crone and it will be done, you can retake the North, and live happily ever after with your wife in Winterfell, your uncle can live as Lord of Riverrun, with or without his wife, whatever he wants, and we all will be one happy family." Tyrion spread his arms in a welcoming gesture and smirked at him by his theatrical envisage.

The boy hesitated, but eventually he stood up and slowly put down his crown, laying it in front of Tyrion, who smiled and bowed his head. "Lord Stark."

"One question Imp, how do you know I will hold on my word and won't betray you after I cross the Neck?"

"I will confide on your Stark honour and word, even if you prove you are fallible. I think it was out of love and we do foolish things for love." Robb Stark was clearly uncomfortable by his words but didn't add anything.

It was over; the war was over, finally. Now peace could come, at least south of the Neck. Tyrion offered him a cup of wine with a gesture, but the boy still looked unhappy with the situation, it was time for the rest.

Tyrion took a knife and opened the laces of the packet. "I am sure you want to take Littlefinger's head yourself, like the old ways?" He asked the boy. "Of course after you questioned him." He added and got a sharp nod from the Lord. "Then you will need this." With a grin Tyrion removed the white wool and revealed his little secret.

"I am sorry it is not in the original condition but I assure you it is the same steel." He admitted when he uncovered the great valyrian Longsword of house Stark, Ice. He had it reforged only for this occasion. He knew how important it was for the boy and for Sansa as well.

The boy gazed at it unbelieving with an open mouth like a fish, before he freed his eyes to look at him.

"Lord Tyrion."

The Huntsman and the Skinner

Randyll Tarly rode into the northern camp and beheld the flag of Roose Bolton, this ugly pink thing with the flayed man. He adjusted his sword Heartsbane on his back and gazed back to his army. He rode at the head and behind him were the best men of the Reach, no of the realm, his men, twenty thousand men under his Huntsman. He was proud of them, they had fought valiant by Duskendale and would serve him well when he would follow the young Wolf into battle.

He didn't see it as a degradation to follow the young Lord Stark, the boy had proven himself as a fine battle commander and a soldier, worthy the name of his ancestors. Tarly was able to admire capability and worth by a man. In his eyes loyalty, bravery, conscientiousness and skill in battle were the virtues every man should have. He respected the one who had it and so he was eager to fight with the young man, and he would be able to teach him a few things too.

He wasn't eager to meet Roose Bolton, the man was a traitor, he had betrayed his liege lord and Randyll hated traitors, but even worse he hadn't done it in open battle, no, he had done it like a coward on a wedding and there was nothing he hated more than cowards, they didn't deserve his respect or anything else.

The gods had punished him with the most inept liege Lord they had, Mace Tyrell, a fat, inept, thirsting for glory and reputation fool with not a single drop of honour or warrior blood inside him. Tarly would smash him wouldn't he be his liege Lord and his vows would bound him. He didn't care for the Iron Throne, in his opinion there were only the old Kingdoms since the Targaryen had fallen so he had not the slightest amount of loyalty for the King, he was a old fashion man, he followed his liege no matter what, everybody had his place in this world and his was to follow the Lord of Highgarden.

But the gods humour was even worst when they had sent him this coward of son, how could this pig be his son? But luckily he also had Dickon and he would be Lord after him, maybe he could manage that he become a squire for Robb Stark or one of his better man, the northerners were mostly respectable men and if Dickon would turn out only half as good as the Stark boy he could be satisfied.

He now saw the eerie eyed scum who called himself Lord. Roose Bolton stood in front of his tent on a hill and waited for him. The army was near the dam way to Moat Cailin, a terrain of hills and vales in a swamp.

"Lord Tarly." Bolton greeted him in a soft voice.

"What are you doing here Bolton?" Randyll barked at him. "You should be down there with the rest of your scum." He couldn't stand he man and because he was superior he had no need to hide it.

"My Lord you should..."

"Listen to me, I can't hang you and your men at the next tree, I have to wait for Lord Stark to see what to do but I won't sleep on the same hill as you. You and your men will be camp in the vale there." He pointed at a small vale near the hills. "Under guard, a single move and I end you." Tarly clapped the spurs to his horse and rode by Bolton, the traitor was visibly shocked, he hadn't expected so much hate or that the man he betrayed would command this army, Randyll only could smile in his white beard because the smug look had been washed from his face. And maybe he will find a reason to hang the man soon.

* * *

**And? Did you like it?**

**Don't forget Robb spend some time with his mother at the Rock, much time to build up hate, especially with a person full of prejudices like Catelyn**

**I'm not sure if I like Tarly or not, he is an enigma and I hope I found a good approach with him**

**Please review, especially if I hit Tyrion's wit**


	25. Chapter 25

**Sorry for the delay, it is not a lack of ides only a lack of time and there are a few more stories in my head**

**Thanks for the reviews and favourites**

**My schedule is very full in the next weeks so maybe I won't update before Sunday, but I try to make it happen sooner**

**Revisited 09.05.2013**

**I own nothing**

* * *

It was early in the morning when Sansa awoke, Tyrion still laid besides her, he slept well and long since they found common ground in their marriage. Sansa remembered the first days when he hadn't slept so well, he had always been awake when she had woken up even if he had gone to sleep long after her, but now he slept as long as she did, sometimes even longer. Sansa liked to think it was because of her presence, because she calmed him down.

She lay besides him and carefully stroke his hair, waiting for him to wake up, he would meet with Robb soon and she was eager to have this over with, she hoped Robb would be nicer to him afterwards or at least wouldn't see Tyrion as a monster any more. Her family reunion hadn't gone so well the last day, it had been like her mother didn't want to understand her position or love, as if she thought she would be under a spell or something like that. Sansa didn't know why, she had thought everything would be all right after they would be reunited; she had never thought her mother could misjudge the situation in such a way. Sansa hoped she would give in after she had seen what Tyrion did for them and was about to do for them.

Tyrion woke up a short time later and looked at her with sleepy eyes.

"How did you sleep" He asked her and cupped her cheek with his hand, turning towards her.

"Very good" She answered him and leaned in for a kiss "This is a very nice bed."

"Is it? I am so glad to hear." He sat up and stretched his arms and legs, before he jumped out of the bed and made his way to the privy. Sansa sat up too and adjusted her hair before she called the servant for breakfast.

-##-

They didn't have as much time as she wished, Tyrion had to go to meet with Robb and she had a meeting with Genna and the rest of the Lannister family. It had been Genna's idea that she should meet the female side of the family this forenoon and that they would have dinner at noon with the rest. Tyrion was supposed to reconnect with them and Sansa was supposed to meet them, nothing she was afraid of. But before the meeting Sansa wanted to talk to Jeyne, she hadn't had much time for her friend yesterday and wanted to know how she had settled in and if she needed something, further more did she know that Jeyne had met with Robb and her mother yesterday evening during the time she had been with Genna, Sansa was curious what they had discussed.

After Tyrion had left and she made herself ready for the day, with the help of four new maids Tyrion somehow organized for her in this short time, she settled down on a red armchair at the window and waited for Jeyne. Her friend arrived soon.

Sansa arose and dragged her in a tight hug, to Sansa's unease it startled Jeyne a bit.

"How are you, are your chambers satisfying?" She asked and gestured her to sit beside her. Jeyne, still shy and acting like a jumpy animal, gave her a soft smile and took the chair at her side. Sansa waved with her hand and a servant brought two cups of wine.

Jeyne averted her eyes to her foot, like she had done so often during their journey, and didn't spare a single glance to the cup at the table besides her. Sansa was worried more than she thought she would, Jeynes behaviour didn't get better and she feared the damage Littlefinger had caused could be permanent, or did Jeyne think she was alone? Did she think all this wouldn't be last long and she had to go back?

Sansa laid her hand on Jeyne's and explained her in a soft but certain tone:

"Jeyne, you know everything will be good, you don't have to hide in yourself any more, this isn't healthy, trust me I know it." Finally Jeyne looked up to her, her eyes uncertain. "I will always be your friend." Jeyne gave her a light smile but then her eyes were back at her feet, she didn't say a word. Sansa decided she needed a different approach.

"And how is Pod." She asked with a grin on her face, her voice was friendly, playfully like it had been back then in Winterfell. Jeyne was visible startled by the question and blushed.

"I didn't see him yesterday, but I think he is fine." She answered in a small voice, but with a smile on her now even redder blushed face.

"And do you want to see him again?" Sansa asked curious.

"I don't know, he is..."

"He is a nice boy, most of the time scared but I think a very nice and decent boy. Do you like him?" Jeyne needed a minute to consider her question before she answered.

"It is easier around him, he isn't so, .. so..."

"Threatening?"

"Yes, threatening." Sansa took a sip of her wine and gazed at Jeyne for a while, her friend started to relax, Sansa could see that and after a short period, Jeyne finally leaned back and took her cup of wine.

"How was your meeting with my family?" Sansa asked nonchalant and caused Jeyne to choke on her wine. Sansa patted on her back and waited until she calmed down. Jeyne looked at her with wide eyes.

"You know?" Sansa leaned back again, took a gulp of wine and smile at her knowingly.

"I know everything, didn't you notice?" She said with a small grin, and caused Jeyne to giggle.

"I shouldn't forget that." It was good to see her giggle; it was nearly like in old times, even if it wasn't. "Robb was nice, but your mother questioned me about you and your Lord husband, she thinks he forced you to say all those things and that you are his slave." Sansa already suspected that from her mother, how should it be better if she couldn't change her opinion?

"And then there was Arya." Jeyne said with a strange expression on her face.

"She changed hasn't she?" Sansa asked her.

"Yes, she is so quiet, she doesn't ran into everyone or stand in the way anymore, and her eyes, I have no idea what happened to her." Sansa knew what she meant, Arya's experiences during her flight had changed her, like Sansa's experiences had changed her, but on a deeper level. Jeyne looked at her and exhaled a light laugh. "Even her appearance changed, I certainly can't call her 'Arya Horseface' any more" Sansa started to laugh at the sudden change in Jeyne's mood from deep I thoughts to light. No, Arya wasn't the boyish girl any more, she changed and Sansa could see how she misjudged her beauty, like she misjudged so much back then.

"I also would advise you not to call her that again; I am not sure how she would react." Sansa told her and caused both of them to giggle like little girls.

-##-

Jeyne accompanied her to the meeting with Genna and the other Lannister, even if Sansa didn't fear them. It was nice to have a friend with her when she walked right into the Lion's den. Jeyne was visibly more relaxed than this morning and it looked like Sansa had done what she had wanted to do and had gotten her out of her shell, hopefully not only temporary. The lionesses waited for them in the Dome Hall, a large room in the upper part of Casterly Rock with a pillared glass dome. Around an oval table at the centre sat the Lannisters, Genna greeted her at the door and hushed her into the room, the hand at her back she pushed her to the women who stood up to greet her.

There was Dorna Swyft, Ser Kevan's wife, a wiry middle-aged woman, her smile was a bit cool and faked, maybe because of the same reason Ser Kevan's had been. She had a little girl at her hand, her youngest child and only daughter Janei, a sweet little girl with a bright smile and deep green eyes. The next was to her surprise Tyrion's bastard cousin Joy Hill, the late Lord Gerion's daughter. Tyrion had told her of his favourite uncle, how he had loved him. The eleven year old girl with the blond curls was shy and only looked at her scantily. It followed Ser Damion's wife Shiera and her daughter Lanna, after them there were the Ladies Cerenna and Myriella. Sansa thought she would be in a sea of blonde. They all were blond and most of them had green eyes. Cerenna and Myriella remembered her at Cersei but with softer expressions, and all in all they were very nice.

Sansa was pushed to the large seat at the head of the table, at her questioning gaze Genna explained to her.

"This is the seat of the Lady of Casterly Rock, it is yours now, come on, don't let us wait." She literary shoved her into the large golden armchair and seated herself right next to her. Jeyne took a place nearby.

The Lannister accepted her into their round without hesitation, after a cup of wine and some lemon cakes they told her of the Westerlands and what she had to know as new member of their family, to her surprise it was Lady Dorna who helped her the most, tried to slow the other down and smiled brightest at her. Shiera was definitely the loudest and the most talkative, and Joy the quietest. It didn't take long until they were at the light themes and Sansa enjoyed being part of the round, they were definitely not like the Lannister woman she had met, Cersei was cruel and derogatory, they were sincere, she saw Jeyne talking with Lanna and Joy and how they giggled. Yes it was a good time. She took Janei at her lap and the two year old squeaked cheerfully when she played with Sansa's dress.

"She likes you" Dorna remarked with a smile. "Do you want children of your own soon?" Sansa was a bit startled by the question. Did she wanted children but soon? She didn't know if she was ready to give her private life with Tyrion up so soon.

"Don't pressure her Dorna, she is young and has enough time." Genna jumped to her help. "Don't let yourself bother by her, Dorna loves children, she prays every day for grandchildren and who knows what else." Genna told her with a smile.

"Maybe I finally get some, now the war is finally over. Lancel is married now, so I hopefully won't have to wait much longer."

"The war isn't over yet, Stannis is still in the North." Shiera interrupted them "And his accusations against Cersei still stand" Sansa knew about Stannis accusations, Cersei's children wouldn't be King Robert's, and somehow she had to agree, none of them looked like him.

"This is ridiculous; our little Cersei might be a bit of a wildfire but this, no." Dorna added. A wildfire, a cruel emotionless bitch was the only one Sansa connected with her. She looked around, Genna continued to explain to Shiera how awful and wrong Stannis accusations were and that Stannis just wanted the throne, Sansa's gaze fell on one of the servants, the girl had a knowing smile on her face.

"Do you have something to add?" She asked the girl and startled her so much that she nearly dropped the tablet to the floor. The room was silent during a single moment and the girl gazed at her with a fearful expression. Sansa felt a bit guilty, she didn't want to scare her. "Please, tell me." she told her in a friendly tone.

"I didn't want to be disrespectful, my Lady, I, I just remembered something." She stuttered and pressed her arms at her body.

"And what did you remembered?" Genna asked beside her, not very friendly by the way. The girl was pale and clearly uncertain.

"It is, it is just that the last time the King, the late King, Robert not Joffrey, visited he, he impregnated a woman, a friend of mine and, and her twins had golden hair. But they are dead now, and she is gone." Sansa was surprised at the revelation, she didn't know that, she gave the girl a smile and excused her with a gesture.

-##-

The conversation had ebbed and returned to much more boring themes like gossip and sewing, Sansa was bored to hells, she craved for a decent and challenging conversation. Luckily for her, noon arrived quickly and they set out for the dining hall.

The dining hall was even bigger than the Dome Hall, a gigantic room at the west side of the Rock with a look over the sunset sea. Sansa seated herself in one of the large golden chairs at the head of the table and was very glad that Tyrion arrived short after them. He walked to her and sat down on the chair besides her.

He looked very pleased with himself and had a large grin on his face. He leaned towards her and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

"And, how did it go?" She asked him impatient. He just leaned back in his chair, held his hand out for a servant to bring him wine and grinned.

"Very good, your brother accepted the conditions." Sansa was relieved to hear that, finally it was over.

"Were you nice to him?" Tyrion looked at her and guided his hand to his chest in false indignation.

"Why did you suspect I would be impolite?" Sansa leaned to him and kissed him on the mouth before she whispered in his ear.

"Because I know you too well."

The dinner was eventless, Sansa got to know the rest of Tyrion's family, his cousins, there were so much, the younger ones clustered themselves around Jeyne and she had to be saved by Dorna who somehow sensed her distress. Sansa felt a bit guilty not to eat with her family but she was sure she couldn't stand her mother, at least not now, maybe this evening.

-##-

After the dinner was over Tyrion left to his solar to work and Sansa followed him, he wanted to protest, he thought it would be boring for her, she just gave him a stern gaze and he complied without another word. To Genna's visible amusement.

They wandered through the halls and Sansa was confused after a few corners.

"You still owe me a tour through the castle. I always thought a Lannister would pay his debts." She accused him teasingly. Tyrion looked up to her with one of his grins.

"Oh, be sure I will, I will show you the Golden Gallery and the stone gardens, and not to forget the Godswood."

"We have a Godswood?" Sansa was surprised, the Lannister followed the Seven not the old Gods, but then she remembered it wasn't always that way. "And do we have a weirwood tree?" Tyrion chuckled.

"Something like that." At her questioning look he continued. "The tree is carved in the stone, with weirwood planks as ornament." Not as good as a real weirwood tree, but better than nothing, in King's Landing hadn't been a weirwood tree, they had been extinguished south of the neck, except for some rare places.

"You also own me a Nameday present." She remembered him with a playful tone, but without any second thoughts. It caused him to grin at her again. "I know, but it isn't ready yet, just be patient."

-##-

Arrived at Tyrion's ridiculous pompous Solar Sansa lay on a couch at the large window and observed how her husband got to work. He started with the letters waiting for him and she just leaned back and hummed a song from her childhood. She wanted to spend time with him, even if he had to work, just to be in a room with him was an improvement over the last day. He looked very concentrated and sometimes his eyebrows frowned, this looked very funny in Sansa's eyes.

After a while he started to chuckle.

"What is it? Let me be part of it." She demanded and sat up on the couch. He turned to her with an amused expression on his face.

"It is a letter from our beloved Master of Coins" He explained to her. "It seems my dear sister already ruined the realm." Sansa wasn't surprise to hear that, the dowager Queen wasn't really the kind of person who could rule a realm without making enemies or causing problems.

"What did my dear sister in law did?" She asked playfully with a smile on her face. Tyrion chuckled at her comment but continued a bit more serious.

"It seems she burned down the tower of the Hand; change the names of the members of the small council, after deposing Lord Varys." He added with a pointed finger in the air. "He gave the Faith its Militia back, what caused trouble with religious fanatics and insulted the Iron Bank of Braavos, which means that the realm is nearly broke, because she wanted to build a new fleet. Lord Garlan asks for a loan from Casterly Rock." Sansa was shocked how much Cersei had screwed up with her manner in such short time. She had never expected it would be so bad, she knew how much the realm was in debts and what this all could mean.

"What will you do?" She asked him concerned.

"I have no idea. Lord Garlan also asks if we could come back to King's Landing." He told her with a questioning look. Sansa wasn't sure how to answer, they had just arrived and she wanted to stay. King's Landing was the place of her worst memories, why should she want to go back?

"Maybe we should stay, at least for a while, until we know for sure it is hopeless." She suggested "By the way, shouldn't your brother stay in the city to make sure something like that doesn't happen?" Sansa asked him curious. Why wasn't Ser Jaime able to stop the Queen?

Tyrion grabbed a letter from the pile and opened him, not answering her question. "We will know." He said cryptic while reading the letter. Sansa wasn't satisfied with his answer and went over to him. She wrapped her arms around him and looked over his shoulder. It was a letter from Ser Jaime, it seemed his brother sister relationship with Cersei was now nearly as bad as Tyrion's with his sister and Cersei had sent him away to siege Storm's End. Maybe they would have to go back to the capital, how great. Sansa leaned her head against Tyrion's cheek.

"It seems pretty bad, doesn't it?" She whispered in his ear. He cupped her cheek and answered in a low voice.

"I fear so, maybe we have to go back, even if I would rather stay here." Sansa read the letter carefully and noticed a line about a conversation with Ser, no, Lord Lancel

"What means 'Why didn't you tell me?'? And why is your cousin not in Derry?" Tyrion exhaled air and let the letter fell on the table.

"Nothing, my brother just had a little talk with Lancel, who apparently joined the Warrior's sons.

"Oh." Poor Dorna, so much to her grandchildren.

Suddenly Sansa's gaze felt on a letter with a familiar crest, the sigil of the House Westerling, she knew it because she had looked them up in a book, she wanted to know something about Robb's wife. She took it and opened the letter. What could it be?

_My Lord Tywin_

_I made sure, as you ordered, that my daughter found her way in the young Wolf's bed. He will marry her, like you suggested._

_I will make sure that she won't be with child and that my House appeared like traitors. I hope for your understanding._

_I will look forward to the day the war is over and we can return as loyal subjects of my Lord_

_Respectfully_

_S.S._

Sansa read the lines again and again, she couldn't believe it, was her brother tricked by this people? Tyrion, who had most likely seen her paled face took the letter from her hand and read it. He took her hand and gazed to her.

"What now?" He asked without a tone in his voice. Sansa didn't know, Robb loved his wife, or at least she believed that, and could she destroy his happiness? Maybe the girl hadn't been involved in the plot?

She made a decision, she took the letter and held it against a candle, watching it burn.

"He can never know." Tyrion gave her an understanding nod.

"What should we do with the Westerlings?" Sansa was furious inside her, she didn't show it but she was.

"They can't pay, Robb would notice. You should explain them that we know and that we won't be pleased if anything comes to light."

"Maybe I should send a bard."

"Maybe you should."

-##-

Sansa spent the evening with the wolf and fish part of her family, Tyrion stayed away; it was most likely the best. Robb seemed to be less hateful against him, but the attitude of her mother hadn't changed. Arya was suspicious towards him, it was clear she didn't trust him. But Sansa finally had the chance to meet her uncle Edmure, her mother's brother. The man looked like her mother, auburn hair and blue eyes, or like Robb. He didn't like Tyrion either, but held his opinion back.

Sansa thought about what she had learned in the afternoon and was startled when Robb asked her why she was so silent. It was awkward; she wanted to tell him but what then? Would he believe her, if yes, she would have destroyed his marriage, would he blame her? Or what if he wouldn't believe her? She had always imagined her reunion with them as a happy cause, not a depressed togetherness. They just sat around the table in the dining room of the King's quarters, the biggest guest chambers the Rock had and ate in silence.

Sansa tried to start a conversation by telling them that Jon was now the new Lordcommander of the Night's Watch, she had read it in a letter and even if she had mixed feelings for her bastard brother, she was happy for him. Arya and Robb were delighted, her mother was not.

They discussed Robb's departure in the next days, he and Edmure would leave with their Bannermen to Riverrun, Edmure would stay there as Lord and Robb and his army would march north to meet Randyll Tarly. Arya wanted to go with them, wanted to stay at Riverrun rather than the Rock.

"But why? You could stay here, maybe spend some time with me or Tyrion's cousins, they are really nice." Sansa suggested and earned a growl from her sister.

"You shouldn't trust the Lannister; they are a vile, arrogant and greedy family." Her mother told her in a disapproving tone.

"They are not, I met them and I like them, they are friendly and nice people." She spat at her spiteful. Her mother sighted.

"They are not, they only pretend; because they have to be nice to you, but they only want to control you, use you. Can't you understand that Sansa?" Once again Sansa was angry with her mother, it was all the same, why had she to insult them, how could she.

"You can tell, and what is with you?" Sansa screamed at her, her mother was dumbfounded by her sudden explosion. "Your sister helped Littlefinger to start this war; she accepted that all her kind could die, for what? She didn't help you, she worked against you and you tell me the Lannister a vile and greedy?" Sansa didn't want to hear more; she jumped to her feet and left the room, without another glance back.

The Mockingbird

The guards pressed him down on his knees, holding him on the block. His entire body screamed in pain, his wrists, where the chains had been, his legs, because he wasn't used to walk anymore and of course the part between his legs, where his manhood had been. He had never imagined how painful it was to be a eunuch; he had to reconsider his opinion about Varys, not that it would matter anymore. He turned his head and saw the boy, the living image of his damned father, with the features of his mother. Robb Stark standing there, propped on his father's sword, a gigantic wolf at his side. It was like his whole existence was to mock him. Cat should have been his not this northern statue's. He gazed around and saw her, his Cat standing there with a hateful look in her eyes, he was glad it was just hate, disappointment was what he couldn't have stand.

They were in one of the yards of Casterly Rock and he, Lord Petyr Baelish, waited for his execution, he looked around and saw his downfall on a balcony standing beside her dwarf. She should have been his too, the reincarnation of her mother, his second chance, but with him in the superior position. He would have had her, possessed her but now she stood beside this ugly creature. How could it be that he had lost again? Not against a northern warrior, no, against a malformed dwarf, he didn't deserve her, he did, she, the throne, all the power it should have been his. He heard the boys Bannermen, booing and screaming at him. He had worked fifteen years to accomplish it, all his plotting and stealing from the King and killing for what? For this, waiting to be executed by a boy?

But even if he died now, they would be following soon, they had no idea what waited for them, what he knew, how dangerous the eunuch was or of his unsolved plots. Off the Targaryen offspring, craving for the Iron Throne. Or the Braavosie and her plots, or the traitor Lords, they will be surprised.

The boy said something, but he didn't listen, he turned his head and watched Cat, his Cat. He watched her when the sword came down at his neck.

* * *

**Justice!**

The King and the pawn go back into the same box

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**I didn't want to write this sick lunatic, but I had to**

**I hope you enjoyed it, it was much work and I would appreciate reviews**

**The story will speed up a little, maybe even a short time jump but maybe not, I will see how it developed in the next chapter**


	26. Chapter 26

**I am back, I am buried in work lately but I am glad I could finish the chapter today**

**My motivation is a little bit down, reviews would help**

**Revisited 09.05.2013**

**I own nothing**

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'Should I really go in?' Tyrion asked himself when he stood in front of the large oak door. Behind it was the fear of all married men, his mother-in-law.

The young Wolf had left with his uncle and Bannermen two days ago, after he had taken Littlefinger's head. It had been a great spectacle, the boy had executed the man, responsible for the war and everybody could watch. Tyrion had let one of the large yards prepared especially for this occasion, there should be a strong signal. It had been quick, maybe too quick for Tyrion's taste but this was the old way of the Northerner and who was he to question that? He however had requested the head of the man, he wanted it above the main gate in a glass case as a warning for all who would try to plot against his family. Not as good as a song but a start.

The boy had left with all off his men and Tyrion couldn't say he wasn't relieved Robb Stark was gone, the boy might have treated him better after their conversation and his 'meeting' with Baelish but still, his glances had been full of mistrust and Tyrion didn't like that, there were enough who looked at him like that. But it hadn't been that relieving for Sansa, Robb had been the only member of her wolf family who hadn't treated her like a stupid child fooled by the vile magical Imp who had lured her into his cave and had tricked her to love him. She was depressed, although her friend Jeyne and, to his relief, Dorna tried to distract her, but unfortunately only with moderate success. Sansa was disappointed and devastated by the situation, Tyrion could understand that, she had thought her mother would welcome her with open arms and it would be all right again, but it wasn't that easy.

Lady Catelyn and Arya might stayed, albeit grudgingly, at the Rock, 'enjoying' the hospitality of the Westerlands, but they cut her. Roslin Frey, no, Tully stayed too, but she was housed in a different part of the Castle. Lord Edmure hadn't wanted to undo the marriage, maybe he liked the fragile girl too much or it was because of her swelling belly. Tyrion didn't know and his curiosity was only limited on this matter, he just made sure she stayed away from her sister-in-law who despised her as much as she hated him until she could leave for Riverrun.

Arya Stark was a different matter in his opinion, she remembered him more at the description of a Wildling women than at a Lady. Actually he thought they could be friends, she was as abnormal as he was, with her fascination for fighting and other un-ladylike occupations. She spent much time with this Brienne, maybe two of the same way.

But all this didn't help him now, he had decided that he didn't want to see Sansa so devastated any more. She deserved as much happiness as the world provided and he couldn't stand the sight of mother and daughter separated any longer. Not for Lady Catelyn, only for Sansa. He had decided it was time to do something, a long shot. Maybe he wouldn't accomplish anything but at least he had to try, for her.

He knocked at the door and waited for a response, it took a while but then Lady Catelyn's voice came from behind the door and he stepped in. The mother of the Lady of Casterly Rock was traditionally housed in one of the finest chambers of the Castle, with a large window and a view over Lannisport, something the most guests would appreciate, Catelyn Stark whatsoever didn't. For her it was a prison cell, Tyrion thought she could be lucky to have such a fancy one, he had only gotten a Skycell, a great view, but the heating had been terrible, the Eyrie was an inn he wouldn't want visit a second time.

When Tyrion stepped in the room the occupant rose from her seat and glared at him with a pinched mouth and with more hate and disgust than he had thought a person could develop, even more he had had for his father, and he at least had had a reason. He was used that people looked down on him with disgust, even if they tried not to since he was the powerful Lord he was, he never forgot what he was, but Lady Catelyn's resemblance with her daughter made him tremble, for a brief moment in his mind it was Sansa who frowned at him and his stomach dropped. He needed a few moments to compose himself, he needed a cup of wine, soon. But not now, he bowed his head and used all his strength to be polite.

"My Lady, I hope my visit is not inconvenient?" He stayed at his bowed position until he heard her.

"Your visits are always inconvenient, Dwarf, but I am your prisoner so I don't have much choice. What do you want?" She sneered at him with all hate she most likely had. 'What a well start!'

"My Lady, you are certainly not a prisoner, if you want to leave, do it." He told her and gestured at the door behind him. "But I am not here to tell you that you are our guest, I am here because of my wife." His tone was polite and certain to be in the right, but despite of that he felt even tinier under her gaze than he actually was, only his father had managed that as well as she did, they would have been a good couple, united in hate against him.

"You dare to speak about her, you who, who..." She accused him, not finding the right words in her fury. Tyrion took a step back and hoped if he showed her his hand she wouldn't attack him in her rage.

"My Lady." He started in a calm tone. "I never forced her to anything, I am sure she told you about the circumstances of our marriage." She wanted to interrupt him, he could see that but he didn't bother to stop and added. "And I am sure she told you that I would have let her go if she would have wanted, but she stayed." Something he would thank the gods for until his last day on earth.

Lady Catelyn apparently was not as thankful as he was, she pointed at him and her voice trembled in wrath.

"You lulled her in with your false kindness and goodness, your gold and titles, your castle and presents, you abuse her fondness for stories and valiant knights to trick her. You are revolting." Tyrion didn't know if he would look like a fish with an open mouth in disbelief or roll on the floor, laughing to death. He, a knight out of stories, lulling her in with gold and false promises? She definitely didn't know how much her daughter had changed or what he was. He decided for a distressed expression.

"You obviously don't know what become out of the girl which left Winterfell so long ago." He told her, he walked over to the wall and stayed there. "I never lulled her in, or tricked her, I would never..."

"Never, you are a vile and arrogant..." She screamed at him searching for the right words to accuse him, so Tyrion helped her.

"Dwarf? Lannister? Imp? Monster?"

"Man." Lady Catelyn ended her sentence clearly unimpressed by his tirade.

"You hate me, right?" He asked her without restraint. "You hated me since this plotter Littlefinger told you I would have tried to kill your son. And even now after you learned the truth you hate me, why? Sansa told you I didn't force her, but still. Do you think so because I am a dwarf?" She froze, her lips pressed together to a thin line, he had her, now they came to the bottom of all this. "So it is because I am a dwarf, is that all?" He asked her, trying to sound nonchalant. He knew she was trained to have this moral values, dwarfs are vile and evil creatures, bastards are bad too, but not all she had learned to believe should be used or is right.

"It is in your blood, you are a Lannister, arrogant, greedy, your kind destroys everything you get your hands on, your father's son, the son of the man who ordered the death of innocent children. … And now you have mine in your claws." She slowly lost her composure and Tyrion asked himself if he would succeed or fail. "And she doesn't even notice that you play with her like a cat with a mouse." The oh so stern and hard Lady Stark sounded suddenly very vulnerable, and Tyrion felt, even though her accusations were wrong, like the last piece of shit.

He kept his mouth shut for a few minutes before he started to speak again, his voice calm:

"I am not my father, I love Sansa, more than anything else in the world, didn't I proof that I am better than you call me?" He asked her with open arms.

"Proof, you proved nothing, you are unjust, vile an..." Tyrion interrupted her before she could fall back in her old demeanour.

"Actually I could accuse you of being unjust." On her shocked and questioning gaze he continued. "My little trip to the Vale?" He asked sarcastically. She understood but only looked at him defiantly.

"I had all right..."

"You had no right." Tyrion interrupted her angrily, he had enough of this. "You believed the real offender and abducted me, triggered this war and wanted me death, because you wanted to believe the dwarf must be guilty of this crimes, even after he saved your life." He accused her with a pointed finger. "And now we have the same situation."

He sighed and gazed at her emphatically. "Can't we let all of this behind us, can't you put some trust in me, just once, not for me, for her. Sansa is miserable and I can't stand to see her like this. Or are you afraid she isn't wrong and that she really loved me and that I love her?"

Not a single word left Lady Catelyn's mouth and Tyrion feared he had screwed up big time, but then her expressions soften, at least he thought so, it was so meagre he would have needed a loupe to know for sure. He smiled and said. "Please, join us for dinner, not for me, but for Sansa, maybe you eve like it."

-##-

Tyrion left the rooms without an answer or an outcome, maybe he had succeeded or failed, he couldn't figure it out. He hoped he had made a difference, if not … he didn't know what else to do. 'Why are there no books about that?'

Suddenly he noticed a movement at the curtains of one of the windows in the hall. It was Sansa's sister, Arya. The girl sat in the bay and gazed at him. She wore no gown, he knew the servants gave her enough gowns for the rest of her life but she wore a jacked and trousers out of brown leather and wool. Her gaze was strange, like a cat, intent but absent together. Maybe like a cat hunting its prey.

"Do you want to stab me in the back from behind the curtains?" Tyrion asked her grinning and not very serious. The girl jumped from her seat and walked over to him, stopping three feet in front of him.

"I can't, your men took my sword in the Riverlands, they did horrible things there." She told him in a challenging tone. Tyrion knew what she meant, Sansa had told her everything. He was ashamed for his father's men; they had brought shame upon all Lannister.

"They weren't my men." he said to her, now without a grin on his face.

"Strange, they wore Lannister red and aren't you the Lord Lannister?" she asked him serious. Tyrion thought she might sneer at him, but no, her tone was stern, too stern for a girl her age.

"They were the men of my father back then." He explained to her. "Now they are mine and they don't commit such crimes with my knowledge and live a happy life afterwards."

She didn't look persuaded, maybe she had no reason to be. Arya had no real resemblance to Sansa, not like their mother, except for her eyes, her grey eyes, Sansa's might be blue but she had the same steel in them.

"Maybe I get your sword back." he offered. "If you don't try to stick me with it." He smirked at her and was rewarded with a brief glow of her eyes.

"I will try not to." She answered him with a wolfish grin. Tyrion had to laugh at this sight, it was brilliant.

"You are a little wolfsblood aren't you?" He asked her laughing, even if he already knew the answer. She was different, but the only thing that Tyrion really interested was that she was Sansa's sister, a sister who didn't talk to her and caused her sorrow, if not the mother, and then maybe he could repair the relationship to the sister.

He observed how she went back to the window and sat on the bay. Tyrion followed her, laid his hand at the bay and gazed at her, asking permission, she nod and he climbed on it and seated himself opposite to her. Arya looked out of the window, watching the trouble of Lannisport. Tyrion followed her lead, sitting there for a while and watched with her until he started.

"Do you hate your sister?" The girl gazed at him in a surprised manner, she hadn't expected this question. She lowered her head and spoke.

"No it is just..."

"You don't get along with her?" He interrupted helpfully and received a nod.

"How do you know?" She asked him suspicious. Tyrion leaned back and tried something else.

"I know exactly what you mean, I never got along with my sister, she doesn't like me and I don't like her. I always thought, and still think, she is arrogant, consequential, only thinking about her beauty and other 'stupid' stuff I never cared for, laughing at me with her stupid friends." He told her, letting out some ugly stuff and she listened with widen eyes. "But it got worse, lately she tried to kill me." He continued and traced his scar with his finger. Arya had a shocked expression, he had her, he had broken the ice and found something they had in common, now he had a lever.

"As a child I always wanted a dragon, I though he maybe could eat her, let the other not look down on me. I always liked dragons." Arya Stark had a smile on her face by his word, she looked really lovely with a smile.

"I like them too, I like the dragons off Aegon's wives', Visenya's Vhagar and Rhaenys Meraxes, they were warriors like their brother, not sitting at home and sewing." She related to him with an admiring expression on her face.

"Not to mention his sisters, if we remember the gross part of the story." He added with a grin and got her to laugh. "We have a statue of them with their dragons in the stone gardens, one of my ancestors built it to kiss some Targaryen asses, it is well hidden so nobody bothered to remove it. I can show you where it is." He offered her and together they left for the Stonegardens.

-##-

The Stonegardens, carved in the heights of the Rock, stepped terraces connected through staircases with all kinds of plants, some terraces were placed in clefts other hang on the side of the Rock. Trees were carved in the sites of the terraces and pained brown and green they had wooden planks to fake the sight of a forest.

Tyrion guided his sister-in-law to the hidden fountain with the statues of Visenya and Rhaenys tangled with their dragons. A wonderful work out of marble, out of the dragons' mouth bubbled water over the ivy-covered basin. The girl stood before it and marvelled it with her eyes, and an open mound.

"We have some books about them in the library, if you want?" She absently nodded but her eyes didn't left the statue. Tyrion found it fascinating.

"Back to our topic." He started. "After I told you of my sister, do you still think yours is so bad, or would you try to get along with her?" He asked the girl, she suddenly averted her gaze to her feet and smiled.

"Before she tries to kill me, I maybe will."

-##-

The little trip to the stone gardens gave Tyrion the opportunity to check on Sansa's gift, he let Arya by the fountain, after making sure she knew how to get back and walked over to a hidden stairway up to a hidden terrace on the top of the Rock. It was a well hidden way to an abandoned terrace in a cleft, he had discovered the garden when he was a child, sometimes he had hid himself there from Cersei and the rest of the world and had read a book.

The terrace was encircled by rock on three sides and the opening aligned to the Sunset Sea, it wasn't as quiet as during his childhood any more, he had had the idea for this gift back in King's Landing and had sent a raven. Now the workers were busy with it, adding a direct gate to the castle and building the frame. Tyrion traced with his finger over the glass panels lying ready for the last phase. It wasn't Winterfell, but maybe she would like it.

The work was progressing well and Tyrion was satisfied with it. The plants had been hard to get but it was worth it. He went to the cliff and gazed out on the Sunset Sea, musing about his wife, she got along with his kind and Tyrion was happy about it, he had feared there would be problems, but there were none. Especially Genna and Dorna helped her to settle in and to manage all her new duties. Genna most likely did it because she wanted influence on her, she was to long the matriarch of the family to just back up and sew in her chambers. Maybe Tyrion should warn Sansa, but on the other hand she most likely figured it out herself and Genna wasn't Cersei, she didn't do it for her own greed, she did it for the family, she was like his father in this matter, family reputation first and she wanted a strong Lady of the Casterly Rock. Tyrion doubted she would betray Sansa's trust, she saw Sansa as a potential ally if something happened. Dorna on the other side was an outsider like Sansa was, not born a Lannister and she most likely sympathised with her. Kevan always said she was a gentle soul only happy around her kind and friends, and Tyrion suspected she wanted to keep it that way, wanted to make Sansa her friend. Thankfully for Sansa. The rest of them were either too unimportant or too daft to have second thoughts.

Tyrion was sure Sansa would manage it very well.

-##-

At noon Tyrion walked to their chambers to fetch Sansa for dinner. He found her in the large armchair at the window, with a book in her hands.

"How are you Sansa?" He asked when he approached her and leaned against the armrest.

"I am fine, a very uneventful day but Jeyne was with me until an hour ago." She told him cheerful, but Tyrion suspected she wasn't as happy as she pretended to be, the situation with her mother gnawed at her and it pained him to see her so.

He took her hand and dragged her to the diner hall. She wasn't very eager, she offered him to eat in private but he refused, the hope Lady Catelyn might appear, let him push the thought of a homely diner beside, no matter how much he would prefer it.

Arrived at the hall he saw with relief that Lady Catelyn and Arya had already arrived and sat on the chairs beside Sansa's, but to his chagrin they were accompanied by Brienne of Tarth, maybe as some sort of bodyguard. Tyrion found the woman suspect, she could 'accidentally' step on him and it would be over with him. Sansa's grip tighten around his arm when she saw them, Tyrion gazed up to her and saw how her face light up. She looked down on him with raised eyebrows.

"Did you know?" She asked suspicious.

"If I had known I had told you, or?" He answered her, hiding a grin.

The dinner went well, somehow Lady Catelyn managed to put her emotions beside and interacted with her surroundings, mostly with Dorna, but this wasn't so surprising, wasn't she one of the not Lannister women at the table. Sansa's mood increased every moment of the dinner, especially when Lady Stark decided to talk to him, in a civilized tone. 'Maybe I should call a Maester, she must be sick' Was Tyrion's only thought at the moment, when Lady Catelyn asked him about his health. Even Sansa's sister got along with his family, she tended to Joy and Tyrion thought it could be worse.

The women excused themselves after dinner to go to the Dome Hall for the afternoon. Sansa pressed a light kiss at his cheek and whispered in his ear.

"I'm not sure what you did, but if you offered our first-born to a dark entity to achieve this, you will regret it."

-##-

After dinner Tyrion went to his solar, he had urgent business with Bronn and Myatt to discuss. The invasion of the Iron Islands had to be planed and to be performed. Tyrion wasn't sure who he should send. Bronn was his best man, without a doubt but what if he needed him, and his cousin Daven would be insulted if he wouldn't lead the army, he also had Myatt, the man had proved himself worthy and Tyrion had to consider that, and had to reward him.

Arrived in his solar he saw that Bronn and Myatt were already there, fighting as usual.

"You think you are better than I am, Sellsword?" Myatt spat at Bronn, who leaned against the wall with a casual facial expression and answered impertinent as always.

"What is wrong with you boy, feel threaten by a commoner?"

"Not by likes of you."

"Don't bother to stop because I am arrived." Tyrion interrupted them nonchalant and walked to his seat. After he sat down he gazed first at Bronn, then at Myatt. "The invasion of the Iron Island is imminent." He started, folding his hands in front of him. "I intend to make one of you 'Admiral of the Sunset Sea' the leader of the Lannister fleet, the duties of the Admiral will be to transport my troops and to secure the coast after the invasion is over. This won't be a temporary post, even after the Ironborn, who apparently invade the Shield Islands at the moment are defeated the coast must be secured and protected from renegades for years. Whoever gets the post will have it for a long time." Tyrion ended with his explanation about the post he just made up, he thought it would be a great idea. He leaned back and waited for the spectacle to start.

"And this post, will it be paid with more than honour?" Bronn asked curiously.

"Sellswords only care for money, you are a Lord now, some honour and sense of duty would be suitable." Myatt spat at Bronn who just smirked back.

"You can't live on honour, at least I can't." 'Maybe I should let them fight to the death.' Tyrion thought to himself, but rejected this idea immediately.

The argument continued for a while until Tyrion had enough, it wasn't funny anymore. He hit on the table top with his hand and both stopped fighting.

"I am bored." He explained them. "I decided that Myatt get the post, Bronn, you will stay if I need you here." Maybe the Sellsword was happy or not, Tyrion couldn't say but he decided it was regardless.

-##-

_Eight months later_

Ser Lucion Lannister

He stamped through the halls to the staircase, he was angry, insulted. He was Ser Lucion Lannister not a damn page. He had been by the Maester when the raven had arrived and the man, this servant, had asked him to bring this 'urgent' letter to Lord Tyrion. He couldn't refuse, but he hated it, he hated it to be stuck at the Rock, he could be at the Iron Islands, fighting at Davon's side against the Ironborn or on a ship of the fleet by the Shield Islands, where the Ironborn held back Lord Myatt's attacks since more than seven month, they had refused to surrender, they were trapped between the Redwyn fleet in the south and the Lannister fleet in the north but they fought and fought. Maybe he could have joined the auxiliary forces Lord Tyrion had sent to the North four months ago. The Boltons still held large parts of the land, the Dreadfort was under siege for more than four month and the young Wolf had to fight against the traitors and the Ironborn. This would have been a fight, he remembered the day the raven had arrived, Bolton had turned against Lord Stark the day they had arrived at Winterfell and the part the Boltons played by the fall of the castle had been uncovered. Now the troops of Robb Stark, the Northerner, the Tyrell men under Tarly and the Lannister auxiliary under his father fought against Bolton's in the East, Ironborn in the Wet and Stannis in the North, the stag had allied with Wildlings and hid at the Wall.

But his father had insisted that he stayed at the Rock, no matter what, maybe because of the winter, the snow already covered the Rock, only thin but soon it would be more and the war in the north would become hell. He had asked his cousin, Tyrion, if he could join Ser Jaime by the siege of Dragonstone, but again no. It seemed he was damned to stay without glory. But on the other hand, because of the Redwyn fleet at the Shield Islands Jaime was stuck at Dragonstone, and because of a pirate, who plundered the Blackwater Bay this wouldn't change soon, Queen Cersei had refused to send her new fleet and Jaime had to wait for the Redwyn fleet to complete the mission at the Shield Islands.

He reached the staircase to the 'Glass Garden', it actually was nothing more than a terrace of the Stonegardens but surrounded with glass and somehow heated, a present his cousin had made his wife, now they could play their Cyvasse game in the garden, even in the winter surrounded by plants from the north, even blue roses. He stopped and looked at the letter; it had the sigil of House Swyft.

He climbed up and found Lord and Lady Lannister where he had expected them, at the Cyvasse table. They were a strange couple, maybe the Queen was right Lion and Wolf shouldn't mingle. She had written this in a letter to aunt Genna, his mother had told him. But he had to admit she was beautiful, he had to concentrate not to stare at her, he was sure his cousin tended to jealousy and he didn't want to be a victim of this. He had never talked much to Lady Sansa, she was always courteous but in exception of a few official occasions he had never met her. His mother was different, she had told him that she liked her, quite different from her mother, Lady Catelyn, at the daily rounds of the women of the Rock it seemed Lady Catelyn didn't make much friends, except of Dorna Swyft, they said she would be arrogant and and and, but Aunt Genna seemed to accept her and so his mother had to accept her too. Lanna had told him her younger daughter Arya would be stranger than any other girl she had met in her life, fooling around with the bastard Joy, but Lanna liked the new Lady and her friend Jeyne or Jeynes since Robb Stark's wife had arrived with her mother as guests at the Rock. Yes Jeyne, he would like to spend some time with her.

"Why do you stand there like a column, cousin?" Tyrion startled him out of his thoughts, it appeared he had noticed him.

"I have a letter for you my Lord, it has the sigil of House Swyft." He told him. Tyrion gestured with his hand.

"What writes he?"

"I don't know my Lord." He answered perplex.

"If you can read cousin then do it and tell me what he wrote." Tyrion told him impatient.

"Don't be so rude." Lady Sansa's soft voice made itself hear when she laid her hand on Tyrion's arm.

Lucion opened the letter and started to read, shocked by the content.

"My Lord, it seemed the Queens are imprisoned." He stuttered.

"What?" He could see the shocked face of his cousin and the paled of his Lady wife. "What do you mean?"

"It appears that Lady Margaery is imprisoned by the Faith for adultery and the Queens-Regent for the murder of King Robert, the former High Septon and incest, my Lord."

"Are you joking? I don't find this funny." Tyrion told him in a dangerous tone.

"No my Lord, the letter is from Lord Swyft and the Lords Oberyn Martel and Garlan Tyrell, they asked my Lord if you could come back, it seemed the Faith Militia controlled the city under the claim the Queens-Regent gave them all their old rights back. The armies of House Tyrell are too far away and the Kingdom is leaderless. The Small Council appointed you King's Regent as long as the Queens-Regent is imprisoned, further more does it look like that Aurane Waters stole the King's fleet and left." Lord Tyrion didn't look happy, not at all.

"Call for Lord Bronn." He ordered him. "I need all men he can gather in two days, only cavalry, we travel to King's Landing. We must deal with these religious fanatics before worse happen." So the Lord left, luckily Ser Kevan had arrived six months ago, he could be castellan during his absence. Tyrion wanted to rise when his wife spoke.

"I come with you." She sounded serious, but Lucion had no idea why she wanted to go with him

"No, it is too dangerous." Tyrion objected.

"Margaery is my friend and you forget we don't march to war."

"But we have to ride, no carriage this time."

"What do you fear that I lose my maidenhead?" She told him with a smile and the Lord exhaled in defeat. Lucion couldn't believe what he just saw. But on the other hand, he was a cavalry, this meant glory for him.

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**Never liked Cat, she is somehow to impulsive and her prejudices are not helpful, but never doubt she loves her children and would do everything for them, even sit with the Lannister**

**The Arya dragon scene is stolen from TV series, I found it suitable and it was good that they have common ground. Until Thursday I never realized that Tyrion's and Arya's image of their sisters could be somehow similar in a few parts**

**Cersei's plot took longer this time, but I wanted the time to let them have some peaceful time together, and travel took time, there happened not much at the Rock so, you maybe get a summary next chapter, but all in all you didn't miss much**


	27. Chapter 27

**Sorry it took so long but here I am**

**However this drained out my energies, but now I am back and have a good plan what will happen in the next chapters**

**But even better, I now have a beta-reader; DiamondEnchantress is so noble to do this for me, all hail her**

**Revisited 09.05.2013**

**As always I own nothing**

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Sansa leaned over the railing and watched her dinner leave her the way out it came in; she was seasick, even here on the river. To save time they decided to take river boats rather than travelling by horses all the time, but there were disadvantages, she was seasick, the entire week by now. But she wasn't the only one, Tyrion and half of the men were seasick too, she was surprised the Blackwater didn't change colour already, maybe a light green or red from the peas, carrots and oatmeal they had on board.

After they received the news of Margery's and Cersei's imprisonment they had to act quickly, Tyrion summoned as much men as he was able to, in so short a time and they set out for King's Landing. The first part of the journey was mastered by horses, riding through the mountains of the Westerlands in a hurry Sansa sometimes thought they would be impelled by the gods themselves. After they reached Blackwater they requisitioned all boats they could get and used the river current to get ahead faster. This proceeded to shorten their journey by two or three weeks. They had already wasted two weeks reaching Blackwater and by now they travelled three weeks on the stream, but the wind was good and Blackwater river strong, maybe a week and they would reach the capital, hopefully they would be there in time. The situation was so unclear and they departure in such a hurry that Sansa feared they would walk into something they couldn't oversee or calculate, but they had to.

Actually Sansa didn't want to leave Casterly Rock, it had started to feel like her home, no it was her home now. Her mother finally started to accept her love for Tyrion and she even got along with his family, or at least Sansa thought so. As much as she could tell she even made friends, she and Dorna seemed to be very good together. Sansa was happy her mother had settled in and even if it wasn't like Winterfell it was pretty close. She brushed her hair and sewed with her, asked her for advice and spent time with her. Arya was bearable too, she somehow was again what she was in Winterfell, older and somehow quieter but still Arya, they never were close back then but it changed, she liked how it changed. But Arya was Arya, still not interested in being a Lady, not sewing or with the manners she should have. She wasn't interested in the male members of the household either, and since Tyrion somehow managed to get her sword back, this funny looking skinny thing, she started to train with it again. Sometimes she couldn't understand Tyrion, why had he to give her the sword back? It wasn't suitable for a Lady but he seemed not to care about it. She asked him that night what would be if she wouldn't act like a Lady, maybe running around the gardens only covered in mud. To her shock he seemed not averse to her proposal or such a sight and that made her shaking her head. She loved him but sometimes he was 'unconventional'.

She also settled in into her role as Lady of Casterly Rock, with the help of her mother, Genna and Dorna she managed all her duties without any problems by the time they had to leave. The household liked her, the Bannermen liked her and the feasts she hosted were already legendary, especially since the feast she prepared for Tyrion's last Nameday. Her mother thought she would be too extravagant but she was a Lannister now and so she could have all the feasts she dreamed of as a girl, with the expensive gowns and high Lords and Ladies dancing gracefully in a golden hall, with dozens of bards and curses. At such occasions she was able to feel like a little girl again, watching the nobility of the Westerlands dancing on the carpet in immense grace to her liking, she giggling with her friends, she had many now, not only Jeyne, it were these times she almost forgot what she have been through, almost.

Jeyne lost most of her fear and introversion; she downright blossomed in the last month. She didn't forget what she was been through but it seemed she had been able to put it behind her, even if there were little signs she was not entirely recovered, she still couldn't stand the company of men alone, no matter how many young man of the Rock tried to win her favour, she still needed the company of at least two females not to fall back into her old pattern. There were many men, Lannisters or the sons of other high Lords, they didn't care she wasn't a noble, the daughter of a steward, she was Sansa's friend and beautiful, Sansa made sure Tyrion stated he would pay any dowry demanded in order to find her a good husband. This and the fact that Jeyne was a permanent part of her own household, her first maid, made her very desirable. But she could only stand Pod alone, the squire somehow managed to win her trust and affection, sometimes she caught them holding hands or leaning against a tree in the gardens when she and Tyrion played Cyvasse. The boy will be a knight soon, at least Tyrion promised that and then maybe will marry her, Sansa would like that, she liked Pod, after she stopped fearing him because of his last name, he was a decent man, from the bottom up a good person, he would make her happy, Sansa would like to see her friend happy.

But another Jeyne arrived at the Rock, Robb's wife, Jeyne Westerling and her mother, the author of the letter Sybell Spicer, also known as 'SS', Jeyne was nice but quiet, Sansa couldn't get warm with her, knowing the circumstances of the marriage, she wasn't sure how much she knew and wasn't sure if she should ask. Sansa had the impression Jeyne was intimidated by her presence or how she managed her marriage. But she let Jeyne's mother know she knew about her circumstances. One day she just asked her if she received the letter Tyrion sent her and the bard, of course she asked if she enjoyed the song and if she would be 'displeased'. Her paled face was proof enough she understood, but she never let a word slip from her mouth, good for her. Sansa sent a servant after her to spy, she didn't trust her and most likely never would, maybe not a decent thing to do but she wanted to make sure she didn't try anything, she already got away with her life, a title and her daughter as Lady of the North, neither Sansa nor Tyrion would accept another misstep from her, considering her betrayal of Robb.

A pleasant arrival was her great uncle Brynden Tully, or like he was called the Blackfish, he accompanied Jeyne. She really liked the man, he took her into his heart without hesitation and somehow got along with Tyrion already after the first day, after she told him she loved him, and later started to like and trust him. He came as escort for Jeyne Westerling and wanted to join Robb in the North but he stayed. The days she had problems with her mother, sometimes they still arrived, he was there to mediate, and in the evenings he sometimes told her and Arya stories about her mother's childhood in his smoky voice and she enjoyed this. He was family, and he acted like family, always encouraged and supported her. One day she discovered that he was the one who helped Arya with her sword training, he even encouraged her. She confronted him about that matter, he only laughed and told her everybody should do what he liked. He was a famous knight, why he acted like that, she couldn't understand, but it was all right, his presence made good for this.

After all they were very quiet and peaceful days and Sansa enjoyed every single one of them, she could woke up at Tyrion's side, read, sowed and spent time with her friends and the Ladies of the household, attending her duties as mistress of the household during the first half of the day when Tyrion attended his duties as Lord and after noon she spent her time with him in her garden. She loved this present of his, a glass garden only for her, he even managed to get heating, it was just like at Winterfell. Her squeak when he showed her her present must have been so loud, she most likely made him temporary deaf, but he was good at pretending she hadn't, maybe too well. There were flowers from all over the seven Kingdoms, from Dorne and the North, even blue roses, arranged around statues and fountains, like out of a fairy tale, it was the sweetest thing anybody ever done for her and they spent every single day there, lying in the grass reading or playing Cyvasse at an ivory board with cushioned chairs. There could be storms or blizzards outside; in the garden it was always safe and warm.

The only dark shadow of this times was the war, Robb had more problems than expected, she didn't understand much of warfare but Robb took Moat Cailin, and she knew nobody ever had, a great accomplishment, worthy of their ancestors, but then he arrived at Winterfell, the sacked and burned home of their childhood and discovered that Bolton's men ransacked her home castle not the Ironborn. The man was a traitor, turning against his liege Lord, his King, killing her brothers. Roose Bolton somehow managed to escape and retreated to his own stronghold, the Dreadfort. He allied with the Karstarks, once again traitors, and declared himself independent. Robb had to fight him, Stannis at the Wall with his Wildlings and the Ironborn who still hold lands in the west. Tyrion decided to send auxiliary forces, ten-thousand men, and he offered every Sellsword two coins for one of Stannis, or Bolton's, who both tried to get help from the Iron Bank of Braavos. After Cersei declined to pay her debts, like it would be suitable for a Lannister, the bank wanted to help Stannis, or better all her foes, but Tyrion somehow organized enough money and paid the debts of the crown, for now. The Iron Bank was satisfied, even courteous to Tyrion and Stannis hadn't enough money or Sellsword companies to win the war. So he took the Wall, rumours said he killed the Lordcommander, her brother, and allied with the Wildlings. Jon's death wasn't a sure thing and Sansa hoped he would was still alive and if not Stannis should pay, in her opinion he should take the black and stay where he was.

The auxiliary forces convinced the Blackfish to trust Tyrion, Brynden wanted to join them but her mother was able to convince him to stay. She heard the Dreadfort was under siege and Robb defeated the Ironborn near Torrhen's Square, they fled and Robb returned to take the Dreadfort, it would be over soon they said. She hoped they were right.

And then the letter arrived. Margery and Cersei were imprisoned, how did they manage that? Sansa never doubted it, and Tyrion agreed with her, Cersei was incompetent to rule and that the restoration of the Faith Militia was a stupid idea, but how could this escalated so badly? How did the Queens-Regent managed to get herself imprisoned by them? Sansa asked herself if it was her fault, she wanted to stay at the Rock when they heard what Cersei did, not wanting to go back to King's Landing, her own personal hell, Garlan's letter wasn't important to her that time, she wanted a home. Was she responsible, because she was so selfish to want a happy, normal and peaceful life without the court and all the scheming? She had to fix this, no matter how, and after all, Margery was her friend and she couldn't allow that she was accused with such ridiculous accusations. There was something else too, she didn't want to leave Tyrion, her mother let her father go alone to the capital and then everything went to the hells, she wouldn't let him go alone, she was to afraid something similar could happen to him, no not as long as she was with him, she wouldn't allow. Maybe King's Landing will be better this time. She also started to suspect that Tyrion was bored, not that he showed her any signs but maybe he missed the ruling.

The cold wind blew into her face, it was winter and they were lucky the river wasn't frozen yet but it was cold and she fastened her cloak tighter around her.

"You shouldn't be outside, you will become ill." She heard the smoky voice of her great uncle. 'More than I already am?' She asked herself before she turned around. Brynden Tully stood at the door to the cabins his weathered face and grey hair half hidden by a hood. Her mother insisted that he accompanied them and Sansa hadn't anything to complain about it, she was glad the famous and skilled knight was with them, his advice and presence would make things easier. She walked over the planks of the rocking ship to him; he reached out his arm and helped her over the ground sill into the warm but sparse cabin. Tyrion paced the floor anxiously, like he had the entire journey, he looked up and gave her a worried glance, maybe because of her wet clothes, she smiled at him and walked over to him giving him a soft kiss. He smiled back and took her hands in his. "Your hands are cold, are you all right?" He asked her, she just sat down on the nearest chair and leaned back.

"It's the river, nothing more" She told him "How are you?"

"I am fine; I didn't eat, so there is nothing to demand an escape." He told her grinning.

"You should eat." She suggested and looked him up and down; he looked sick, he was pale and lost a lot weight during the journey.

"I assure you I am fine, Sansa. Really." He assured her with raised hands.

"You will eat." She ordered in a stern tone. "If not, 'she' will feed you, if you want or not." Sansa threatened him, and his defeated expression told her she won. She was satisfied with this, she didn't want to worry about his health too, they already had enough problems and in such times Tyrion tended to neglect his health, so it was her duty as his wife to make sure he eat. With 'she' Sansa meant Brienne of Tarth, this half giant of woman or man or knight or whatever she was, her mother insisted that she accompanied them too, Sansa didn't like her and she found the prospect of her being her bodyguard was far from appealing, but she didn't want to fight with her mother at her departure and so 'Ser' Brienne rode with them. Sansa found her daft and a bit slow, but she obeyed every order Sansa gave her, she would have feed Tyrion, this was for sure, holding him down like a child if necessary.

Sansa looked around the room, except for Tyrion, her uncle and herself only Pod and Ser Lucion Lannister were at the room, Lord Bronn was on deck overlooking the captain. Her mother, Arya and Jeyne Westerling were on their way to Riverrun, they didn't want to stay at Casterly Rock without her and wanted to wait at her mother's old home for the war to end. Ser Kevan stayed as castellan at the Rock. Jeyne would follow her and her group with the rest of their needed household and reinforcements, Sansa made her responsible for this, giving her something to be occupied with, and a chance to follow Pod, and she wasn't in immediate danger. They would need longer, maybe a month, considering the winter and the streets.

Sansa was distressed, what if they hadn't enough men or what if Margery was already dead? Tyrion seemed to sense her distress and approached her, laying his hand on hers.

"Everything all right?" He asked cautiously. "You seemed out of place."

She smiled at him. "How long will we need, until we reached the capital?" She asked.

"A week, maybe ten days." Her uncle answered for Tyrion in his smoky but calm voice, he leaned against the wall, crossed arms at his chest.

"You see? It will be over soon." Tyrion assured her, tucking her hand. "And then we will quickly clean up and be back home, before you can blink." He told her, a small smile hushed over his lips. He lied, she could tell now if he lied or not. He wanted to calm her but she didn't want this, she wanted the truth.

"You are a good liar." She accused him teasing, leaning down she whispered in his ear. "But you can't lie to me." She rose again and fixed him with her gaze. "How are our odds, do we have even enough men?" She demanded to know.

"Don't worry my Lady, we have two-thousand knights in this little fleet and another eight-thousand will follow us on the Goldroad, we will wipe the floor with these religious fanatics. I actually feel bad because this won't be fair at all" Lucion exhaled, arrogant as always, he was young, and a Lannister, maybe this was the reason for his attitude but Sansa feared he was too rash.

"I won't be so sure boy; religious fanatics have the quirk to fight much harder than normal men." Her uncle schooled the knight.

"Please, what can they do?" Lucion started to mock the older warrior. "We have enough men and the superiority too. Their pious prayers won't help. We will beat them and if necessary we ..."

"I won't be so sure cousin." Tyrion interrupted him with a harsh gesture. "First of all, you should hear what Ser Brynden has to say, he is much more experienced than you." This only triggered an unbelieving or sceptical smile by Lucion. "I will certainly follow his advises." Tyrion added, dumbfounding his cousin. "And second, the Westerlands are drained out; these ten-thousand men are our last reserve. We can't make any mistakes." He continued seriously. "And what do you suggest, my Lord?" Lucion asked, stretching the last two words.

Tyrion turned to the Blackfish. "I suggest we use our mind." He said gazing at Lucion again. "I have a very sharp one, you know? We will visit the Red Keep first and then we will free our Queens." He told him.

"You might consider removing the Gold Cloaks, they will fight for the man who pays best and I doubt you can compete with the Faith and any absolution the High Septon can offer." Her Uncle offered his advice. "And the Sparrows are in the city, and could threaten their families, in my opinion there will be a great risk if we allow them to stay in the castle."

"I agree, we will replace them with our men as soon as we arrive." Tyrion said nodding.

"This is all very well and good, but nobody did answer my question, will we be able to succeed?" Sansa asked, she had to sit down, the rocking of the ship made her belly turning around again. 'How much did she eat? Or better how much was there to lose?'

"We will Sansa, we will." Tyrion said and was backed up by Ser Brynden with a nod. Hopefully they were right.

-##-

It didn't take longer than six days to arrive at the capital, Sansa stood at the railing again and watched the city, a small film of snow covered the roofs. She wore a thick red cloak made of wool, protecting her from the cold winds, her auburn hair waved in the wind. The city looked almost peacefully, like something out of a dream, but Sansa knew what was under the snow, only black ugliness. She saw the Red Keep, noticing the absence of the tower of the Hand; the surrounding walls were black, like after a fire, so Cersei really burned it, she thought this was a hyperbole of Garlan. At the walls flags with the seven pointed star were hoisted, only the Keep had the yellow red flags of King Tommen.

Tyrion suddenly appeared at her side, gazing up to her. "Doesn't look good." He commented on the view and didn't look amused. Sansa turned around and looked around, behind her stood her uncle and Lord Bronn, both in armour. Both didn't like each other, her uncle practically took over the command of the troops and Lord Bronn wasn't pleased to be the third man, especially because he was a mighty Lord and her uncle 'only' a knight. The knights they brought with them were all on the decks of the ships, armoured and ready to fight, if necessary, Sansa hoped it wouldn't. At the masts wafted the flags of House Lannister, Tully and Stark, or better her uncle's flag with the black fish. Tyrion meant it would be good if the Faith saw who was coming.

The ships were able to moor at the docks by the Keep, Sansa remembered them from the day they saw off princess Myrcella too Dorne, and then she remembered the riot afterwards. Hopefully it wouldn't be so bad this time.

-##-

To her relief they reached the Red Keep without any problems, the streets were deserted, like everybody was hide. But she saw them, gazing out behind shutters, suspicion in their eyes, she didn't like it, she didn't like it to be back at all. The people hid and Sansa feared the reason. Maybe they feared them? Sansa didn't know, but she didn't like to be feared, she didn't want to be feared.

Nobody awaited them, only a servant who told them the small council would have a meeting and they would await the Kings-Regent. Tyrion dismissed him with a small gesture.

He turned to her. "I have to go." He told her with worry in his tone. "May I borrow your uncle? I am afraid I need him." Sansa didn't know what he meant but nodded in agreement. Tyrion smiled and turned to Lord Bronn. "Take as much men as you need and fetch our Queens from the Faith."

"And what if they resist?" The former Sellsword asked curiously. "I meant the Faith, not the Queens, with to resisting women I can deal."

Tyrion paused for a moment, glancing disapproving at him. "Then tell them the quotation on their heads will be higher than under Maegor, understand?" The Lord grinned wickedly and left, and then Tyrion gazed at Lucion. "Remove the Gold Cloaks and replace them with our men." The Lannister bowed and left without a word.

Tyrion turned to her and wanted to say something but she spoke first. "I go to Tommen, I want to check if he is all right and how he managed the last weeks." The boy was young, maybe he didn't even understand what happened.

"Be careful" Tyrion told her, taking her hand and pressed a kiss in her palm. Sansa gave him a warm smile and left.

She wasn't sure what she was doing but she felt she would have to see Tommen; actually she wanted to see him. She missed the boy and he and Margery were the only reasons she didn't hate the city completely. So she walked through the halls of the Red Keep again, accompanied by her personal guard and Brienne of Tarth, visiting the King.

Damion Lannister

Damion pulled the hood of his cloak over his head, marching through the deep snow to the tent of Lord Stark. His bones felt like they were frozen and the snow blew into his face, he had to blink. How could anybody wanting to live here, up in the North, he couldn't understand it, it was cold, wet and the constant danger of freezing wasn't really appealing. He hated it up here, he hated everything and he hated his damned cousin because he sent him her. 'Auxiliary forces for Robb Stark', how ridiculous, not a year ago they fought against each other and now this.

After the men of Stark and Tarly eyed the battlefield in front of Winterfell they soon figured out that not the Ironborn sacked the castle, no, the northerner themselves, or better Lord Bolton's bastard. The traitor was able to flee and now they were here, besieging the Dreadfort. His men were freezing and the only reason they were here was for the hostages the coward of bastard took, apparently Lord Stark couldn't accept to work in new servants.

Damion reached the tent and already from outside he could hear the shouting. He stepped into the warm and beheld the reason. Lord Tarly and the northern Lord Umber, called the 'Greatjon', were arguing again. It was always the same, since three days, tomorrow they would attack the castle and both wanted to lead the attack. The 'Greatjon' wanted revenge for Bolton's betrayal and Tarly wanted to follow his own Words 'First in Battle'. But this was just the top of the mountain, they didn't trust each other, Tarly beat a Northern army at Maidenpool and this was a problem, not as big as the problem the northerner had with him and his Westermen, they outrage hated them, like the Westermen didn't like them. They fought against each other, and now the only reason they fought at the same side was an order. But all this didn't matter, tomorrow they had to fight and die side by side or they would fail. The reinforcements the Karstarks granted Bolton would be here soon and then they could invest them here, and this poor land would be their grave. The Karstarks, still offended by the execution of their murderer kind, decided that the Boltons would be better allies, he had no idea why, but what did it matter?

Tomorrow they would take the Dreadfort and than deal with the Karstarks, after that they would pick up the poor rest of the Ironborn at Deepwood Motte and than Stannis at the Wall, this would be a long war, he had to remind himself to thank his cousin for this commander-ship, if he not freezes to death before.

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**Cat away, Blackfish there I needed him and I always thought he had to meet Sansa**

**This is only a filler chapter but the next will be again story pure**

**Hope you liked it and please review, last chapter I only got one, I appreciate the alarms too, but reviews with your opinions would be better :)**

**You know, I feed on them**


	28. Chapter 28

**I own nothing**

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Tyrion walked through the halls of the Red Keep, heading for the chamber of the small council. The hallways were deserted, the entire Keep was silent as a crypt, no servants were attending to their duties or knights walking to the training-field, only empty corridors with some guards but nobody else. The faces of the guards were tense, like his own, fearing an attack, not from outside the city-walls, no, from the inside.

'How good to be back' He thought sarcastically.

Tyrion wasn't happy to be back in King's Landing, the city stank and he wasn't eager to be exposed to the scheming of the snake-pit of the court again. He had been happy at Casterly Rock, he had everything he ever wanted, and even more, he had a loving wife, a woman who truly loved and wanted him, not someone he paid or who wanted his money rather than himself, he never imagined somebody would want him, but Sansa did, and the gods knew why. He was respected, the kind of respect that came with power but also through the results of his actions, the people of the Westerlands respected him, they might have looked down on him in the past, some still did, but they couldn't show it. The smallfolk was different, he wasn't his father and they liked to have a Lord with sympathy for them, or Sansa at his side was the reason for the respect or maybe love the smallfolk showed him, everybody loved her. The more than decent amount of power was something he liked too, his father never wanted to grant him Casterly Rock, but in his opinion he did a good job.

He didn't want to leave but as always in life, if everything started to be perfect his sister had to destroy it. It was her stupidity with the Faith Militia, her incompetence at ruling the seven Kingdoms was unbelievable and now he had to fix it, somehow.

Tyrion was sure Sansa wasn't happy to be back at King's Landing either, this was the place of her worst memories and it pained him to bring her here, he hadn't wanted to, but needs must. But to his surprise she insisted on accompanying him to the capital, he needed some time to figure out why, she wanted to help her friend, Margery, and wanted to see Tommen again, he could understand that. First he was satisfied with his answer, but then he asked himself if there was more, maybe, but he couldn't lay a finger on it.

After all, the last eight month were a peaceful time, he didn't have to do so much in his position of Lord of the Westerlands, at least not as much as he thought he would have, after he figured out how to delegate his minor duties to the best for the job he had much more time for Sansa, her mother and sister accepted him, or didn't hate him anymore. Sometimes he suspected she thought he was bored, little hints she were dropping, like suggesting a journey to a place she clearly wouldn't like or something like that, but contrary to her beliefs he wasn't bored, no, just satisfied, he liked this kind of life, more than he had thought.

And Sansa was great, all she touched turned to gold, she was a loving wife, a skilled mistress of the household, and a great and popular host, the Ladies of the Westerlands clustered around her like hens. The smallfolk loved her too, much more than anybody else had for long time, she had a way of caring for them which made her unique. But sometimes he couldn't prevent himself from thinking that her talents were wasted by this lifestyle. She was brilliant, he didn't doubt she could rule a Kingdom if she wanted, her intelligence was a match for all the women and most men he had met in his life, but she hosted feasts or sewed. Not that he would complain, this lifestyle allowed them to spend most of the day together, and she was after all his most trusted advisor, he shared everything with her, not all good, he embezzled some of the gross and messed up stuff his family, especially Jaime and Cersei engaged in, like the true fatherhood of Cersei's children, but only because he didn't want to burden her with this, and because he was somehow ashamed for his siblings.

He didn't judge her for wanting this kind of life, hosting feasts and being a Lady was what she was trained for her entire life. She wanted to be this kind of Lady, this kind of person since she was a girl and who was he to deny her what made her happy? He was glad her time in King's Landing didn't destroy that part of her; it meant she wasn't broken entirely. She somehow had transformed back into the happy girl, he saw at Winterfell or who once arrived in King's Landing with bright eyes, wiser, more aware of the true nature of the world, but a girl, and if she wanted to be that happy girl again, or the person she wanted to be back then, she could, he would do anything, spent any amount of gold to let her live her dream, maybe he couldn't give her exactly what she dreamed back than but hopefully the life, she lived now, was close to that.

He for sure lived in his dream, and she as the biggest part of it, he needed her, he depended on her, her affection, support and advice was all he craved, he noticed that he grew stronger every day, he knew he would need her now, he had to deal with his sister and he certainly needed her support.

Cersei somehow managed to screw up in a way even he never thought about. Jaime maybe warned him in his last letter, he meant Cersei thought she would be Tywin Lannister with teats but she was more like wildfire, unpredictable, imprudent. He was right.

First he thought Cersei just followed her rash, imperfect plans as always and wouldn't cause to much trouble with her actions, he never suspected she would put her son's reign in such danger. First, the Iron Bank, a Lannister who denied the Iron Bank what was theirs, he never believed he would witness such. If she had done this to anybody else, Tyrion most likely wouldn't care so much, but you don't put the nose of a revengeful and powerful organisation like the Iron Bank out of joint, and especial not in such times. The Iron Bank had the peculiarity to support pretenders to the throne if a King forget to pay his debts, and the last they needed was a reinvigorated Stannis. And this weren't even the worst consequences she caused, after the Iron Bank demanded all their loans back, the seven Kingdoms were practically broke, the economy was near death and so he had to do something he really didn't want, covering the debts of the crown. He paid them two million gold-dragons; he even paid an addition of ten percent only to keep good terms with the Bank. To make sure Stannis won't be able to hire Sellsword companies with the gold he already had he also paid them, all in all he spent nearly three and a half million gold-dragons, for Cersei's mistake. He spent another million on reconstruction aid for the Riverlands, his part of reparation for his father's crimes. Then he needed two million for the Westerlands and the war itself, men needed weapons, they needed ships, but at first he needed men, the Westerlands were drained out by the war, he had to pay men from other parts of the seven Kingdoms and their Lords to join his ranks, especially his fleet. All this loads were hard to take, even for House Lannister, they weren't broke, not the remotest, but their position as richest family of Westeros was certainly in danger by the Hightowers. His father wouldn't let this happen, he would have let the Kingdom go down, but he couldn't, he had to do what he did and he would have to do more, helping Robb Stark supporting his people when the winter drained their resources, same with Edmure Tully and his own granaries were only half full too, yes he had problems enough but Cersei had to go one worst. She proved her insight into the human nature by her replacements in the small council or better her self-image and hunger for power, except for Lord Garlan and Prince Martel the rest were her obedient puppets. The only uncertain one was Grand Maester Perestan; he would have to find out. He had to fix that too, with Margery imprisoned the situation was parlous, the alliance between Lannister and Tyrell was in danger, and Cersei's small council wouldn't be able to stand like it was. He suspected Cersei was behind Margery's situation and the Tyrells certainly would too, they needed a symbol of unity.

But her biggest mistake was the Faith Militia, she certainly thought she would be brilliant, offering the Faith their old right and ransom the debts of the throne, but as short-sighted as she was she forgot how many troubles the Faith caused the old Kings and the dynamic that her actions could develop into, now the Faith was strong, pious fanatics who were ready to fight to death serving in an army only loyal to a demagogue, and how could he forget the right to judge Cersei granted them too, yes really great. He feared he would have to crush them like Maegor tried and failed, he maybe hadn't enough men for that, the Tyrell armies were bound in the North and at the Shield Islands, they wouldn't be here soon, maybe he could get troops out of the Riverlands, but this was questionable.

He looked behind him, Brynden Tully, the Blackfish, followed him as asked, he was glad the man was here with him, he liked him, he didn't mistreat him, maybe even trust him, something not many with Tully-blood did. In his opinion he was a fair man, and exactly this trait, combined with the respect the famous knight enjoyed were the reasons why he chose him for his solution, hopefully he won't hate him after the day was over.

They walked for a while in silence, until they reached the large doors to the council-chamber, it was guarded by two Tyrell man in green doubles. Tyrion stopped in front of the doors and turned to Ser Brynden, the old man gazed at him, waiting.

"Do you trust me?" Tyrion asked, not bothering to be discrete. The older man looked him up and down, definitely not knowing what he wanted or what he should think.

"I trust my grand-niece" He finally answered after a moment of silence. "And it appeared that she trusts you, only the gods know why." He said, honest as always, not caring to be polite, another trait Tyrion liked.

"Yes, the gods have a very strange kind of humour, or maybe they are just bored to be conventional." Tyrion replied with a quick grin before he started to be serious again. "I need you to do me a favour." He explained him. "Or better to do the entire realm a favour, I fear it is necessary and you won't like it. Can I count on your help?"

"And what kind of 'service' would that be?" The Blackfish asked him suspicious, he leaned down a bit, not much, he was still taller than Tyrion but he brought his weathered face nearer to Tyrion's. His look in the eyes made Tyrion unsteady, it remind him of the way his father looked at him, but with less hate and a few more emotions.

Tyrion took a step back and hold out his hands in an apologizing gesture.

"I am afraid I can't reveal this yet." He told him with a strange feeling in his guts. "But I assure you it is crucial." Hopefully this was enough, but according to his face, it was not. "You said you trust me" Tyrion tried another way. "Or better yet you trust Sansa, who trusts me." He quickly added when he raised an eyebrow to object. "Please trust me in this."

The man straightened up, rising to his whole height, but his face stayed impassive. Tyrion waited there, in front of the door to the chamber of the small council, he heard the wind howl around the Keep, it was the only sound, the hall was cold, not as cold as outside but still, winter was there.

"I will trust you" The Blackfish said eventually, Tyrion already feared he failed; he bowed and grinned at the man.

"Try not to look as surprised as you will be." With this words Tyrion gestured too Podrick, who followed them the entire time and who stood now in a corner, to open the doors to the council-chamber.

The chamber was silent as a crypt; the tense mood matched the mood of the entire Keep. The room looked abandoned, only four figures sat at the large table, where once sat a council of eight, only four small looking man remained. Tyrion walked to the large chair at the head of the table, passing a large brazier, which wasn't helpful at all to bane the cold out of the room, he felt goosebumps, the chill in the room made him uncomfortable, or maybe it was the occasion. Tyrion climbed on his, too large chair, or maybe throne, it seemed Cersei replaced the old chair with a large throne like stool of gold and ivory.

After he seated himself he gestured Ser Brynden to sit down at the table before he slowly let his gaze fell upon every single man on the table. Lord Garlan sat nearest to him, he looked tired but was also visible relieved, for Tyrion it seemed he looked like a man on a lonely islands who beheld a ship, let's see if he could fulfil his hopes. Prince Oberyn Martel, the Red Viper of Dorne, sat next to Lord Garlan, with a haughty look in the eyes, he couldn't say, but he was the only one who looked not as depressing as a member of the Nightwatch, he wore an orange gold doublet which was in contrast to the drab colours the rest of the council wore. Tyrion couldn't overlook that he sat next to a Tyrell, Dorne and Reach were arch-enemies, it must have been really bad when two old enemies allied. On the other side of a table sat a man in the robes of a Maester with a long chain around his neck, he wore a chopper mask, only letting him see his eyes. This must be the Archmaester, Tyrion had great respect for the Maesters and Archmaester Perestan presence was proof that they were as wise as claimed, following his request and replacing Pycelle. But the question was, was the man better? The last on the table was Lord Swyft; the old man looked very uncomfortable on the table.

They all gazed surprised to Ser Brynden when he sat down and then turned their heads to him. He waited a few moments, letting them remain in silence in the cold room.

"So my Lords, what did you do that I have to ride here like the knight of the stories to save the day?" He asked provocative and enjoyed the dumbfounded look on their faces. "I thought you would be able to rule the realm, only with a boy King and his mother above you, without ruining it." He continued to accuse them grinning. "And where is the rest of your so elitist group?" Lord Swyft's mouth formed an O that let him look like a fish, Martel and Tyrell were taken aback and the Archmaester sat on his chair in silence, not showing any emotions, only the Blackfish looked amused.

"My Lord Lannister." Lord Garlan started. "First we want to thank you for coming here." The young man paused, obviously expecting some sort of reply, but Tyrion wanted to know what happened before being courteous again, Sansa would disagree with his methods and maybe she would school him for being so rude, she didn't like it when he was rude. "Lord Merryweather left the city after the imprisonment of the Queen-Regent, and this man Qyburn isn't allowed at this table anymore." Lord Garlan explained to him, Merryweather was out of the city, interesting, he would have to search an answer for this, the freshly appointed Hand left the city after his patroness was imprisoned. Qyburn absence he could understand, the man was just one of the monsters his father brought from across the Narrow Sea, he would have to ask Cersei why she appointed him in the first place. "And as my Lord knows, Aurane Waters stole the royal fleet and left without a trace." Lord Garlan continued.

"Because of the vulnerable state of the realm we decided, because the Queen-Regent is indisposed that my Lord is the most suitable for the position of the Regent and request you to take over the government." Lord Swyft exhaled, bowing his head in Tyrion's direction. Actually they had no right to do so, only the King can appoint a Regent, but this was an emergency and who cared? "I am sure the King ..."

"The King is with his aunt." Tyrion interrupted Lord Swyft before he got bogged down in details. "He is in good hands and I will talk to him later. First I want to hear what happened so we can find a solution." Tyrion explained how he wanted to proceed. "So tell me, how can it be that two Queens are arrested by the Faith, which actually shouldn't have more power than cursing morons, and nobody got them out by now?" Tyrion gazed at them angrily; they were supposed to be the great Lords, capable of solving such a problem, or even better preventing it.

"My Lord" Swyft started in a subservient voice. "The case is much more complicated than you maybe know. Let me explain." He laid his hands in front of him and waited until Tyrion gave him a small nod. "After the death of the old High Septon, the Sparrows, poor souls who fled from the war and flood the city, declared a man out of their midst to the new High Septon, a process we hadn't any influence on." The old man explained himself, boring Tyrion with unimportant details, who taped with his fingers on the tabletop. "After the Queens-Regent restored the Faith Militia, in order to liquidate the loans of the realm, we thought the situation was under control until one of the Kettleblack brother confessed to a Septon he would have an intimate relationship with Queen Margery and witness more excesses with other members of the court."

"Just lies without any base, the only confessions were made after days of torture." Lord Garlan defended the honour of his sister. Tyrion wasn't sure what to think about it, he doubt Margery would do such a thing, after what she experienced with Joffrey he thought she would be glad to be freed from such things for a long time.

"However, the Faith claims she wouldn't be a maid and that the truth only could be found in a trial." Lord Swyft picked up the threads again. "She, her cousins and the men in question were brought to the Great Sept of Baelor and held there, the Queens-Regent decided to restore the right of the Faith to judge in order to have a fair trial." 'Fair trial' how funny to think his sister would bother with such a thing, no this stunk of one of her inconsiderate plans, like sending Eddard Stark to the Nightwatch but leaving him in Joffrey's hands first, or deposing Barristan Selmy. He suspected she would try to get rid of Margery, but not so soon and especially not when her power was so weak, he surly underestimated her recklessness. "When the Queens-Regent visited the imprisoned Queen Margery, she was imprisoned too, under many accusations you most likely already know my Lord." Swyft continued.

"And what is with my brother and the 'new' royal fleet? Tyrion asked fixating Lord Swyft with his gaze.

"There is a pirate, Salladhor Saan, one of Stannis men who cross into the Blackwater Bay, after the Lordcommander left to take Dragonstone the Queens-Regent feared he would attack the city and ordered the fleet to stay at the port, even after Dragonstone was taken." Swyft explained in a shaky tone. What did Cersei think? Nobody would attack a city like King's Landing, the thought was ridiculous. "And after Queen Margery was imprisoned the Queens-Regent ordered Aurane Waters to water the ships from the docks, and then he left, with the fleet after the Queens-Regent's imprisonment." Swyft ended his implementations. Tyrion sat up, straighten himself and took a deep breath. So much stupidity, how did he deserve that?

"You must kid me." He spat at them. "You were supposed to rule the realm for the King and are not able to stop a common man who has nothing more than very weak proofs and what? An Army?" Tyrion was angry as hells, this escalation was worse than he thought, but he would fix it, he had to. "I will take it upon myself to help you, I will be Regent as long as it takes to stabilize the realm" 'Or until Tommen is of age' There was no chance he would let Cersei mess with the realm again. Garlan Tyrell and Lord Swyft were visible relieved, exhaling deep breaths, Prince Martel just put a smooth grin on his face, and the Archmaester Tyrion couldn't read with the mask on, didn't say a word yet.

"Then you will need this." Lord Swyft said and handed him the hand shaped pin of the Hand over. Tyrion took it and looked at in his hand.

"No" He explained him. "I am the Regent now, not the Hand; we will need a new man for the job." Tyrion smiled and looked in the room, Lord Swyft straighten up, most likely expecting to be appointed as relative of him, the other gazed to the terrified looking Blackfish, he feared what Tyrion meant.

"Catch" Tyrion spoke and flipped the pin to Lord Garlan Tyrell, who caught the pin without any problems and gazed at it surprised. This little plot of Cersei's could destroy the alliance between Lannister and Tyrell, so Tyrion needed a symbol of unity, what would be better than the brother of the Queen in question as Hand of the King. The Blackfish looked relieved, to his future disappointment, it wouldn't last long. "I decided to change some positions in this council." He further explained. "Lord Swyft, I am sorry but you will be the Master of Coins from now on." He told him, sorry because he knew what Swyft was heading to.

"But My Lord, I am already Master of Law." He protested, using the old titles again, over going Cersei's stupid changes. Tyrion grinned at him, and raised a hand; gesturing to the man he had planned for this job.

"Our most honourable Ser Brynden Tully will take over this position." He declared with a glorious but not mocking tone, and dumbfounded the man his granduncle-in-law. "For me myself, I always found him to be a righteous and fair man, perfect for this position and surly more than skilled when he has to deal with the Faith and their claims." 'And a Tully in the council shows that we are in good terms with the North once again.' He added to himself, he would be the number three after himself and the Hand of the King. "I am sure Prince Martel wishes to keep his easy but very influential seat and I won't undermine his position." Tyrion further explained and was done for the moment, the positions of Master of Ships and Arms, together with the Master of Whisperers he could appoint later, but now they had to discuss the more urgent matters.

-##-

The meeting lasted hours without that they found a solution, he also didn't hear from Bronn yet, this wasn't good. They didn't found a satisfying conclusion when Tyrion excused them and wanted to leave for his rooms, or better he wanted to look where he was hosted this time, maybe the kitchen, or the stables. He was hungry and frustrated, it was cold and he missed Sansa, missed her warmth, he only wanted to fall into his bed and sleep, but he feared he won't get what he wanted soon.

Lord Garlan was more than pleased with his new appointment and would most likely celebrate if his sister were already back. Martel as mysterious as ever just smiled at him when he left, 'Lord' Brynden gazed at him but left without a word, same as Lord Swyft, two members of his family displeased in one day, maybe if he catches Cersei today he could make it three.

Archmaester Perestan was the only one who remained; the man with the copper mask stood up and walked over to him. Tyrion felt a bit uncomfortable in the presence of the silent man.

"May I congratulate my Lord on your appointment as Kings-Regent." He finally spoke to him.

"I thank you Maester." Tyrion answered short and wanted to leave when the man stopped him.

"I have to talk to you my Lord."

"Is it urgent" Tyrion asked curiously and gazed at the eyes showing behind the mask.

"Yes my Lord it is crucial for the entire realm." The man said in an overly didactic tone

"Then we will talk first thing in the morning" Tyrion said and walked away.

"But my Lord it is urgent." The Archmaester protested, but Tyrion cut him off, stopping in motion, he was tired and cold and hungry, no way would he spend an hour or two with this man talking about whatever he wanted to talk about.

"That is why we will talk tomorrow, not next week." He said rough and gestured Pod to follow him out of the room.

-##-

Tyrion walked over the yard when he heard the sound of hooves at the gate. He beheld a small group of riders riding into the yard, with Bronn leading the way. The former Sellsword looked pleased with himself when he stopped in front of him a grinned down.

"I see you fulfil your task." Tyrion stated when he saw his sister, Lady Margery and four other women on horseback riding behind Bronn, they didn't look well, they had dark rings under the eyes and wore cloaks hiding penitential robes, this wasn't good at all.

"I had no problems." The Sellsword brought him back out of his worries. "I only had to swear I would only keep them until their trials." He told Tyrion with a large grin on his face, he clearly never intends to keep this oath, and Tyrion didn't care, no matter what, the Faith would be without a Militia when this was over.

"Very good, if you keep going with your good work I must see how I reward you, you are already a Lord, I won't make you King." He told him, causing a laugh before he ordered Bronn to bring Margery and her cousins into her chambers and to inform Sansa about their whereabouts, so she could attend to her friend. Cersei should be brought into her own chambers, he would follow soon. He would have to drink something before facing his sister, he really didn't look forward to that, his bed was unreachable until he talked to her.

-##-

Cersei didn't look good, she was paler than usual and her hair was straggly. She looked chubby, like she was when she was pregnant, 'she couldn't, could she?' Her gaze was haunted when she fixated him.

"How are you?" He asked in a calm voice, like he was talking to a wounded animal. She straightened up and get to her full height.

"I want those dead, all of them." She demanded in her most arrogant tone. "These traitors abducted me, denied me sleep and were so blatantly to offer me a 'Walk of shame' like I would be a common whore. I demand of you to kill them all." She was surely the same as always, maybe they didn't break her because she knew he was coming, or she was to pride to be broken, whatever it was it triggered something deep into him, an old aversion against her.

"I won't do such a thing." Actually it was one of his best options, but now when Cersei demanded it became very unappealing for him.

"I am the Queens-Reg..." She started but he interrupted her immediately.

"You are not, I am Regent now and I will make sure you will never come near a position of power in your life again." He shouted at her, she was taken aback but in the heat of the moment he didn't care, she always looked down on him, tried to kill him and now dared to order him around. "You may think you are our father, but you are not, you spoiled everything with you stupidity, you nearly caused the realm to fall apart 'again', caused nearly that Stannis would be able to win this war, nearly causing the death of your two children." he accused her, anger still in him. "And for what? For power you don't have, you don't understand what it means to rule and now I am here to clean your mess up. And when I am finished I will make sure Tommen will be old enough to rule alone and good, without you messing it up again." He took a deep breath and tried to calm down, without success. "I won't drag you away from your son, or your daughter, visit her if you want, maybe it is best, but if not, I won't send you away, but you won't rule ever again, understand? You already destroyed our name, good or bad it was our and I won't let you destroy the realm, or Tommen." His anger was still present, he expected her to slap him, shout at him, but what came now was much worst.

Cersei started to sob; pressing her hands at her face she broke down onto the floor and cried wildly. Tyrion suddenly felt his anger passing away, he felt sorry for her, for what she had been through and for his outburst, she was his sister and what did he? Shouting and accusing her after she was tortured for weeks?

_Who is the monster in the room?_

A voice in his head made itself noticed after a long time again, what was he? No matter what, she was his sister, his kin and he shouted at her. He remembered a certain occasion when she discovered he would send Myrcella to Dorne, and how she reacted back then, how he felt like now, like a piece of shit. He wanted to calm her, but she flinched when he wanted to put his hand on her shoulder, improving his try from back then when he didn't know how, but she obviously didn't want this, so he left, ordering the servants to bring her everything she wanted, except for the King, a sentence he regretted in the moment he said it.

-##-

The new chambers for Sansa and him were their old, near the castle kitchen, not as bad as he thought, at least there would be some good memories connected to the rooms, their first real kiss, their first time and some more. Tyrion was frustrated by the day, angry at his sister, the members of the council and himself, he didn't feel very good for what he said to Cersei, no matter what she did, she was hurt by somebody outside of the family, no matter what in such a case you stick together, and Jaime, no matter what he claimed in his letters, still had strong feelings for her, and he wouldn't let harm come to her, for Jaime and her children, but she will never rule again, this was clear for him.

He gestured Pod to wait outside, the tall boy nod and left, he would stay on the other side of the door, in earshot. Pod changed over the last year, out of the scarred, shy boy grew a man, or at least a older version of the boy, taller, not bad looking and with self confidence, causing that he looked somebody in the eye or stated his opinion on rare occasions, Tyrion really liked him and he would make him to a great man, he had the potential for this and he served Tyrion well, already before he had power, Tyrion appreciated that and won't forget it.

After the boy left the room Tyrion decided to read a book and drink some wine until Sansa arrived, she sent a messenger and let him know she would need some time with Margery and will arrive late. A pity, but Tyrion would wait, musing about the problems with the Faith and maybe get some work done.

He walked over to a small table at a corner of the room, far away from the with blaze filled fireplace and the door, he already felt the temperature difference when he poured himself a cup of wine and took a sip, dornish red, very good. Suddenly he heard a strange sound, like stone scratching on stone, not very loud but there. He wanted to turn to the fireplace when he heard a click; it reminded him of a crossbow. He turned around but then he felt an impact at his shoulder, something hit him, he heard how his cup dropped to the floor before the pain started spreading through his body, it was cold. He thought of Sansa before his head reached the floor and everything went black.


	29. Chapter 29

**I own nothing**

**Great thanks to my Betareader, for finishing this so fast out of the usual time (I was fast this week)  
**

* * *

Tommen looked sick; the boy King sat on a woollen blanked on the cold stone-floor when Sansa arrived in the royal chambers. The Kingsguard didn't try to stop her this time, but Ser Boros Blount eyed her suspiciously after she stepped over the doorstep, Sansa savour her old tormentor just a quick glance.

"Sansa, you are back." Tommen screamed cheerfully and jumped of his seat to run over to her, causing the cats around him to flee from him in sudden panic. Sansa bend her knees to lower herself on his level and opened her arms to welcome him, Tommen hugged her firmly with a big smile on his face. Sansa noticed he was much thinner than the last time she saw him nearly a year ago, his skin was pale and he had black rings under his eyes, his hair, which felt into her face was thin and straggly too. His hair was also darker than she remembered, he now had a dark blond hair colour, much darker than any Lannister she ever saw.

"I am so happy that you are back." He whispered in her ear, tightening his arms around her. "I missed you and uncle Tyrion so much."

"I missed you too." She assured him, petting his back. "But now, please let me go your Grace." She asked him friendly and he took a step back, he wasn't as tall as she was, though taller than Tyrion. Sansa had to balance on her feet, crouching to be face to face with him, she put her arms on his shoulders to stabilize herself. "How are you your Grace?" She asked concerned, his face darkened a bit and he adverting his eyes.

"I am fine." He told her quiet, starring at his feet; Sansa gave him a wary look, and lift his chin gently with her hand making eye contact with him, Tommen exhaled. "Nobody told me what happens, where my mother and where Margery are." He added hesitating. "Are you here to make everything right again, you and uncle Tyrion? Lord Garlan promised." He said and sounded hopefully. Sansa removed a flick of his hair from his face and tucked it behind his ears.

"Yes we are, Tyrion is already with the small council, everything will be all right." She told him, hiding her own doubts, she wasn't as certain as he should think she would be, there were too many variables. Her words conjured a smile back on the boy's face; he looked so lovely with a smile.

"Look what Margery presented me with." He exhaled eagerly and dragged her to his blanked; she nearly fell forward over her own feet by his hasty movement. He led her in the middle of the room and sat down on the blanket; Sansa decided to stand beside him and looked down at him. He carefully grabbed one of the three black kittens and held it up to her with a proud expression on his face. "This is Ser Pounce." He introduced his cat, Lady Whiskers and Boots followed quickly afterwards. Sansa petted the heads of the three new members of his Grace's entourage, when Tommen held them up to her; the kittens seemed to be accustomed to such treatment and took it gracefully.

"They are very 'cute', your Grace." She assured Tommen.

"They were a present from my Lady wife." Tommen told her smiling. "See what they can do." He took a fur mouse, mounted on a fishing pool from the ground and threw it laughing in one corner, watching his kittens chasing after it. One of them, maybe Ser Pounce, Sansa couldn't distinguish them, caught it and started to play with it.

"Very impressive your Grace." She commented watching carefully the amused boy. He looked so young, laughing and playing, he reminded her lot of Bran, back in Winterfell. She had to blink back a tear forming in her eye when she thought of her dead brother. Tommen looked so uninfluenced of the events around him that Sansa asked herself what he actually knew and what he thought happened. "I see you are happy." She stated to him, but Tommen's laughter silenced.

"I want my mother and Margery." he explained her. "I don't understand why they have to be away for so long." He made a small pause. "And nobody tells me anything Sansa, but I am King ain't I?" He was near tears, Sansa could see that and it made her heart heavy to see the sweet boy like that. "They say I have to do what they say, they said I should stay in my chambers and learn, they make me eat beets and I don't like beets." He told her with clenched fists, Sansa wanted to interrupt, wanted to calm him down, his voice grew louder during his exclamations but he then dropped his head and continued low. "They didn't even let me play in the snow; they said I am not allowed to be outside in the cold."

Sansa wasn't sure what to say to that, in her eyes this was stupid, Tommen was a boy and should play in the snow, with friends in the best case, but it looked like he had none, he was locked away in this keep, without anybody. Sansa didn't want to accept that, she wouldn't accept that.

"I can't do anything about the beets your Grace, but how would you like it to go out with me into the snow, playing around." She suggested and it caused his face to light up with a bright smile of anticipation.

"The Queen-Regent forbids him to play in the snow my Lady." Ser Boros Blount told her harsh. "She is concerned the King could catch a cold."

"I am sure a fur cloak will be sufficient to prevent such." She waved away his objection and gestured to a servant to bring one of Tommen's cloaks. Sansa stretched out her hand and wanted to help Tommen, who was fidgety in anticipation of being in the snow, most likely for his first time, to stand up.

"The Queen said no!" Ser Boros barked at her, causing Tommen to fell back in surprise, the knight wanted to grab her wrist, but one of her guards was faster. In a single blink the fat member of the Kingsguard laid on the floor, the foot of Brienne of Tarth on his belly and her sword at his throat, the rest of her men had their swords drawn too. The other members of the Kingsguard, Sansa only knew them from seeing, Margery's men, didn't flinch, visible amused by their brother lying on the ground.

"Don't touch." Brienne schooled the knight with a dangerous tone in her voice. At this moment Sansa was glad to have her with her. She didn't liked Ser Boros at all, she remembered still his hits, it seemed he grew bolder since their last meeting when he was much more afraid of her, she decided to ignore him further, she gave the man with the redden face a small grin and put her hand out to Tommen again, who watched the scene with wide eyes. After a moment of hesitation he took her hand and she helped him up. The servant brought a big, warm, golden coat with a bear fur at the collar, Sansa wrapped it around the King, ordered the servant to follow with a thick blanket and something to eat, Tommen would be hungry and she was always hungry the lately.

-##-

Tommen stomped besides her through the corridor which led to the Godswood, holding one of his kittens in his arm, the two new member of the Kingsguard followed with the other two, her men and woman were behind them. Ser Boros retreated into the tower of the Kingsguard, hurt in his pride much deeper than his flesh. Sansa eyed the boy with the quick steps, anxious to see the snow, he seemed not affected from what just happened.

"I must apologize for what happened your Grace, but my guards are very protective." She explained Tommen with a quick glance back to Brienne. Tommen slowed down a bit and petted his kitten, eyes fixed on it.

"Don't worry auntie," He told her timid. "I know what he did when Joffy..." Sansa had to use all her power not to flinch by the mentioning of Joffrey, Tommen who apparently sensed her discomfort broke up immediately. "I am sorry Sansa." He apologized looking down at his feet now.

"Don't be." Sansa assured him, surprised by the empathy the boy possessed, and mussed up his hair. "It isn't your fault, don't be sorry for what happened and won't occur again." His face lightened up again and he started to eagerly hop to the door, which came into sight. Sansa had to hurry up to catch up with him. "Your Grace, a bit more patience please." She shouted after him, already out of breath. Tommen stopped and turned to her, Sansa and their entourage caught up and Sansa decided to take Tommen's hand, leading him outside in measured steps.

"How do you like it being King?" She asked him curious, changing the conversation in a different direction.

"I like it." He told her cheerfully. "Especially to place the royal stamp on a document, it made a funny noise." He explained Sansa and gestured with his free hand, imitating the royal stamp falling down on a document.

"And what else did you like?" She asked the boy, who still presenting his stamping skills. He looked up to her curiously.

"What else? Mother said I don't have to do anything else, only to learn how to stand my ground." He explained to her. "But Margery said I should sit in the small council, when I told mother that, she said this would be wrong and I shouldn't listen to Margery." He admitted to her, insecurity written all over him, for Sansa it seemed he didn't know who was right, his mother or his wife, and nobody helped him with the decision. "She called her 'little wife' all time, she mistreated her often. I told her to stop, that I am the King, but she let Ser Boros whip my whipping boy Pate." He ended his explanations, there was sadness in his face. Sansa couldn't believe it, Cersei seemed to do nothing to make him ready to reign, or preventing him from becoming an incompetent King. What was that for a way to be Regent, or a mother? Telling him to stand his ground, and when he does punishing him. Sansa was sad, pitied the boy, but now she was there, it all would change. "After they were gone, only Garlan was there sometimes, the new Maester only teaches me history, but I am alone." Tommen told her, averting his eyes again, not wanting her to see his face.

"Don't worry, now I am here." She said. "And I won't be gone for a long time."

"Promised?" He asked unsure.

"Promised." Sansa gave his hand a tug and pointed to the door. "Want to go into the snow?"

-##-

The Godswood looked beautiful, a layer of snow covered the little place of home she had back in Joffrey's days. There were no footprints, she wasn't surprised, she had been the only worshipper of the old Gods in the city back then and she was away for a long time, this caused the lucky case that the place was untouched.

Tommen placed his kitten to the ground and started to run around, swirling up the snow with his feet, leaving a small cloud of white where he ran. Sansa's heart warmed when she watched the laughing boy who started chasing is kittens, the men and Brienne stood beside, grinning about their King's childishness. Sansa felt at ease, forgotten were the problems around them, she just wanted to be where she was right now, only Tyrion and Margery would have to be there and it would be perfect. She couldn't prevent thinking about what both might do know, did Bronn managed to get her out of the Faith hands? Did Tyrion manage the small council? What would happen next? Her guts felt strange, a knot formed in them. No, she won't let this ruining her time with her nephew; she shoved the thoughts beside and walked over to Tommen, who slumped into the snow.

Sansa took a hand full of snow and formed a ball in her hands; luckily she took on a pair of gloves. She threw the ball lightly at the King, who was unaware of this use of snow. She aimed well, hitting is back, Tommen gazed around surprised, looking like a fish, Sansa had to giggle at this sight.

"What are you doing?"

"It is a game your Grace." She explained and threw another ball.

Tommen followed up quick, throwing light balls of snow after her, he had some trouble forming them at first but Sansa took his hands in hers and showed him how. Proud of his new skills the boy started to aim for other targets than his aunt, very to the displease of his and her guards, the men in armour wasn't very happy to be used as target practice, and only two of them had the guts to fight back, after indicated them with a gesture they could, throwing snowballs back at their laughing King.

"Kingsguard, protect your King." Sansa called for them, laughing with Tommen about the hesitating looks of the men from the Reach before the younger one stood between the King, his aunt and the attackers, rewarded with being thrown at from both sides.

The scene was interrupted by the servant, bringing the blanked, something to eat and hot milk. Sansa let herself falling on the blanked, stretched out the ground, protected by her thick clothes, exhausted by the snowball fight and gestures Tommen to follow her, he wasn't tied at all, but she was, hungry and tired, she took one of the gingerbreads and bit in it, giving one to Tommen. She ate it quickly and reached for another one, yawning, she was always hungry and tied lately; she assumed it would be from the stress of the last weeks, the journey and what it caused.

She watched Tommen, sharing his gingerbread with his kittens, the guards behind her drank hot spiced wine, the servant was so thoughtful to bring it along, she was offered one, but Tommen was too young and he shouldn't feel alone, drinking milk. Sansa slid closer to him, wanting him to show how to build a snow castle when he suddenly took a serious expression on his face.

"What happened really with mother and Margery?" Tommen asked her, fixing her eyes with his, he looked much older in this moment, like he already was an adult. Sansa thought of lie to him, reassuring him everything was all right, nothing could happen and that they just didn't feel well, but this lie would be to obvious. Tommen was King, he was supposed to rule the seven Kingdoms one day, even if it's going to hurt her she had to tell him the truth. But she won't let him alone with it; there in the Godswood she decided she would stay here, with Tyrion, to help Tommen, to make sure he will be a great King. She never talked with Tyrion about the possibility of staying, she didn't want, but she had.

"They are not ..." She started, searching for words to simplify it, to make it easier, she looked around, searching for help, but only found blank facial expressions. "They are not away out of their free will." She told the boy with the waiting gaze eventually.

"Then we must free them." Tommen declared, attempting to stand up until Sansa took his arm and pulled him back down. "Where are my armies? Where are my knights?" He asked her anxious to do something. "Nobody is allowed to hold them captive, I forbid it." Sansa put her hand on his shoulder by the sweet word of a child, still dreaming of stories; she was once too, by the words of a child King, showing already more good and decency than his brother ever possessed.

"Lord Bronn is already on his way to bring them back" She explained to him.

"The big scary one?" Tommen asked her, playing with his hands nervously, obviously not sure what to think about it. 'It's always the scary ones.' Sansa thought to herself.

"Let's say the dark one." She caught herself smiling calming at Tommen. "He will bring them back and then it will be like nothing ever happened." Lies, sweet lies, but necessary at the moment, so much to her intentions. It calmed him down, Sansa thought this would be enough hard truth for one day, he should stay innocent as long as possible, only small bits of truth every day, not more.

-##-

Sansa was surprised how fast Tommen learned to build snow-castles, they spent hours outside in the snow-white Godswood, the boy already rebuilt the Red Keep and something that looked like Casterly Rock, it only was a pile of snow with holes in it, but Sansa liked to think it was Casterly Rock. But the snow slowly started to melt, her men build small fires around them to keep them warm, Sansa appreciated the gesture, after all this time in the snow she was cold, even with her thick clothes. Tommen enjoyed himself, building a third castle, he declared it would be for Ser Pounce and Lady Whiskers, but Sansa started to be worried, they spent so much time in the snow, being childish she failed to notice his wet gloves and red nose, maybe it was time to go back inside, not that he really catch a cold. The sun already lowered and so Sansa decided it would be time, she pulled out her hand and gave Tommen a determinant gaze to take it, the boy sighted grumpy but followed her wish and they walked back into the Keep.

In front of the royal bed chambers she ordered her servants to prepare a hot bath for the young boy and a warm meal. Tommen started to look tired, now out of the snow, it was an exciting day for him. Suddenly a man in red approached her with hasty steps, Sansa recognized him as one of the knights they brought from the Westerlands and gestured her guards to let him through.

"The Queens are back, my Lady." He whispered in her ear. "Lady Margery and her cousins are in the Maidentower." After his message Sansa gave him a quick nod to gesture to him she understood, sending him to Tyrion to tell him she would be late before turning back to Tommen.

"You should bath, eat and sleep your Grace" She told him, holding up a calm façade, not wanting him to know how anxious she really was to just run off to the Maidentower to see if Margery was all right. "I would be honoured if your Grace would consider inviting my Lord husband and me to breaking our fast with your Grace tomorrow."

"Yes I would like that." Tommen told her with a weak smile, he looked like his eyes would fall shut any moment. Sansa kissed his forehead and hushed him into his rooms, turning to leave the moment the door closed. She ordered two of her men to stay with the King and started to walk, nearly run through the halls to the Maidentower, wanting to see how Margery felt, what they done to her.

-##-

The bridge to the Maidentower was covered in servants, bringing all sorts of goods to the Queen; they all stepped aside when they saw Sansa and her men arriving. Sansa didn't feel well, she had a strange feeling in her guts, first she had to fight back her own tiredness and the stiffness in her legs, the day with Tommen maybe was a bit too much after such a long journey and second was her concern for Margery, Sansa feared what they had do to her and wanted to be there no matter what her body might thought. The guards standing in front of the doors stepped beside when they saw her approaching and bowed their heads, opening the doors for her.

The inside of the tower was warm, a big fire crackled in the fireplace but the mood appeared not to be so good. Sansa heard somebody scream and in the next moment a Septa fled one of the rooms, ducking from a flying night-bowl.

"What is wrong?" Sansa demanded to know from the old woman who tried to compose herself after she noticed Sansa.

"Queen Margery's cousin denied my help, like the rest of them." The Septa told her disapproving. "But they need to be attempting to; they need to eat and to rest."

"Then send for one of the wise women in the city." Sansa ordered her, knowing exactly why Margery and her cousins weren't so eager to be in the same room with a Septa, a member of the group holding them in cells for weeks. The Septa wanted to protest but Sansa raised her hand and silenced her, giving her a determined glance the Septa only could bow her head and left. "Make sure she does what I said." Sansa said turned to one of her men before waving one of the servants towards her. "Where is the Queen?"

"In this room my Lady." The distraught looking woman told her, pointing at one of the doors. "But she doesn't want to be interrupted." The servant hasty added when Sansa swept past her to the room.

Margery's room was dark; only two candles illuminated the scene, Margery laid on the bed, covers above her head. Sansa slowly approached her, making as much noise as possible to announce her presence, not wanting to startle her. Margery's brown hair and eyes looked out from under the cover, eyeing Sansa when she cautiously sat down on the mattress.

"You are here?" Margery asked hesitating, like she thought Sansa would be a hallucination. Sansa laid her hand on her shoulder and smiled empathetically.

"I am here, and real by the way." Margery suddenly jumped up and embraced her. Sansa returned her hug but was shocked to feel her rip, she was pinched, her hair was desolate, Sansa noticed her shaking and that she only wore a cloak, therefore her body must be so cold.

"I hoped you would come." Her friend told her starting to sob. "Did you bring men?"

"Yes, Tyrion and I are here with two-thousand men, and more will follow. Everything will be all right." She assured her friend petting her back. Margery freed her from her embrace and sat back, she really looked in bad shape.

"It was Cersei." she told her determinate. "She was it, she created these accusations because she wants the power for herself, not wanting to share with her son, who she neglects but also wants only for herself. This bitch thinks she is so clever." Sansa was stunned by Margery, this perfect Lady using such a word, but it made her smile. 'Not such a bad characterisation for Cersei' She thought to herself. "They, they tortured me, denied me sleep, three day they woke me every hour and then let me sleep a day so I won't go insane, they said I should confess or it would be go on forever." She told Sansa breathless. Sansa felt another feeling rising, except the compassion for her friend, a sudden wish for justice against the Faith for their treatment of her friend, how they could dare to get a confession by pressing it out of her. "I already lost hope someone would come to help me." Margery admitted. Sansa noticed how low her eyelids were, she must be exhausted and so she decided it would be best to let her sleep.

"It will be all right again, promised." She told her, hugging her friend again. "But now you should sleep, I am sure you need it. Tomorrow the world will look different." She said low in her ear and let her glide onto the mattress again. Margery was asleep in moments and Sansa pulled the blanked over her and left.

She actually expected to be with Margery for longer but she needed sleep and Sansa didn't want to deny her that, and she was tired too, and hungry again, tomorrow was a day too. She mused about what Margery told her, she already suspected Cersei behind all this and it made her angry how all played out, she really should have left for King's Landing after the first letter, this would have prevented all this, but she had to stay at the Rock, how great of her, she wouldn't let this happen again.

On her way out she met Garlan who ran into the tower, he stopped in motion when he saw her, he was out of breath and his knees were wet, it seemed he fell on his run to the tower; Sansa noticed the pin of the Hand on his chest. 'Good thinking Tyrion.'

"My Lady." He greeted her, bowing Sansa followed his example and wanted to say something but he was faster. "My sister is she?"

"She is asleep, you shouldn't interrupt her." She answered his unfinished question.

"Is she? What?" He stuttered.

"Maybe you should ask her this yourself." She told him with an assuring light smile. "But not now, like I said, she is asleep."

"Then I will wait here." He told her clearly and walked over to Margery's door, grabbing a chair on the way and sat down beside the door.

"My Lord." Sansa said, bowing in parting and walked towards the bridge, witnessing the arrival of an old crone in company of a Lannister man.

Sansa started her way to her chambers, she was really tired but first she had to talk to Tyrion about what happened and what they had to do, she was sure they wouldn't leave the city so soon.

The siege of Dreadfort

Damion Lannister observed his men storming at the walls, it was a cold, as usual, winter morning in the North, a blizzard hit them and Lord Stark thought it would be a sign of the old Gods, the ideal cover for their attack. With sunrise Lord Umber and Lord Tarly attacked simultaneous the west and east walls of the stronghold, placing ladders at them, under a shower of arrows their men stormed the walls, with less casualties than expected. Now, an hour later he sat on his horse, dressed in a red armour and watching his men trying to breach the gates with a battering ram, it were the task of the Lannister men to storm the southern gate and open a passage for Lord Stark's men, he and his knights, or men, the northerner insist on their Gods and that they weren't knights, would ride with the young Wolf into the castle and finish what was started this morning.

He saw how boiling oil was heaped down on his battering ram, luckily the wet weather, made the wood moist and prevented the ram to catch fire. Maybe it would be better if, Damion thought to himself, a ram on fire could easily set the gate on fire too and then it was easier to get through than laboured ramming it down.

Damion rubbed his hand together, they were numb and this wouldn't be helpful when he had to fight, he gazed at his side, the young Wolf sat on his horse, the gigantic wolf at his side, determination on his face. The screams and the clink of blades reached his ears from the castle and he felt a tingle in his legs, he wanted it to start, so it could be over soon.

It took a while until his men finally breached the gates and opened the broken doors wide for the cavalry.

"Winterfell!" Lord Stark shouted and raised his swords, his men join in his battle call before he spurred his horse and rode towards battle.

"For the Westerlands, for Casterly Rock, for Lord and Lady Lannister!" Damion spoke loud to his men behind him, his horse pranced and he presented his sword before he was galloping after Robb Stark. 'Casterly Rock!' 'Lannister!' 'Lord Tyrion!' 'Lady Sansa!' his men shouted before following him into battle.

Reaching the gates he let his horse jump over the pile of dead bodies blocking the archway and was inside the yard, raised sword. A soldier in pink ran towards him with an axe above his head, Damion brought his sword down into the man's scull, causing blood and brain to spout out before he turned and beheld Lord Stark fighting with a group of his men a small line of spear-men, his wolf was already covered in the blood of his late victims and tried to attack the men with the long spears. Damion called his men to him and rode across the yard, attempting to fall into the spear-men's flank. His plan succeeded, when he and his men rode into the side of the surprised spear-men their line dispersed.

"Stay and fight your cowards!" A young man with pink, blotchy skin, dark hair and small close-set, queerly pale eyes in a pink armour screamed from above the wall. "I will flaw you alive and wear your skin as a coat." He screamed mad, he held up a sword. Suddenly Damion heard dogs from his side, a wild pack of them attacked the wolf of Lord Stark. "See what happened to wolfs at the Dreadfort." The man, visibly amused by the sight, exhaled down, but the wolf was too large, too powerful, he ripped the dogs apart without serious injuries.

The man screams ceased and Damion hoped this would be over, but no, this insufferable man had to continue, the battle was almost over, the yard was theirs and soon the castle would follow, he wanted to demand a spear to throw it at the raging pink armoured guy when one of the She-bears, the young tall one, he believed Dacey was the name, ran at him with her mace. Damion was always surprised how easy the woman fought amongst men, and still looked gracefully in a dress, different to this Brienne of Tarth he saw at the Rock. She broke easily through the defence of the man and

Rammed her mace into the head of the pink armoured man, letting him fall limp like a puppet when the live was out of him.

The battle was over soon, Lord Bolton fell under the sword of Lord Umber in his own hall at the time Lord Tarly hoisted the Direwolf of House Stark on the, from him seized, keep. Damion was glad that it was over, he was cold and his clothes were covered in blood and anything else he could imagine. He stood in the hall of the castle, together with Robb Stark, Umber, Tarly and other northern Lords when the doors were pulled open and two young men came inside escorted by Stark men, at the sigil on their tunics he knew exactly what they were: 'Frey-scum' two of Lord Frey's breed. They said they had been wardens at Winterfell and then hostages of Lord Bolton's bastard and that they had something for Lord Stark.

They disappeared after gaining permission and returned with the most desolate creature Damion ever saw, whatever it was; it missed fingers, toes and teeth.

"Theon Greyjoy, my Lord." The boys, both called Walder presented the thing, apparently a man to Lord Stark.

"Are you fouling us?" Lord Umber demanded to know in his impressive voice. "What is this?"

"Theon." The young Wolf stated and gave the thing in front of him a hateful glance. "I would recognize him everywhere." He approached the kneeling frame "Traitor. I called you friend."

"Robb, please." The miserable creature pled.

"Silence! Fetch me a block." The young Wolf ordered to one of his men. Theon Greyjoy gazed at him with horror. A man brought a block, the Lords opened their circle around the dead man and another man brought Lord Starks great-sword.

"You betrayed our curse, sacked my castle, my home, your home, killed my brothers." He accused him, drawing his great valyrian sword. The miserable creature winced, holding up his hand.

"They are alive."


	30. Chapter 30

**I own nothing**

* * *

Sansa was on her way to Tyrion's and her chambers when she heard the scream, first she flinched, thinking it would be an attacker, Brienne of Tarth had her hand immediately on Sansa's shoulder and pressed her back, drawing her sword with the other hand. She and the rest of her men closed a circle around her, she in the middle, protected from everything by their bodies. But then it dawned on Sansa, the scream came from the end of the hall.

'Our Chambers'

'Tyrion!'

She jumped up, wriggled herself out of Brienne's grip and ran for the door, panic rising in her. What happened? Is he hurt? Her entire body tingled, she felt her heart pumping her blood faster through her veins, she only vaguely heard Brienne screaming behind her, she should wait, but she couldn't.

The doors was wide open and no guards were in sight. Sansa stormed in the antechamber, a chair lay on the floor and the door to the main room was open. She didn't think twice and with two long steps she was in the main room and froze where she stood.

First her eyes fell on Pod, who stood with an outstretched sword in front of the fireplace above a fat pink and red frame, wrapped in robes, the squire kept a group of dirty children with knifes in their tiny hands at distance, together with two other Lannister men. It appeared to her they would stand in the fireplace, Sansa was shocked and puzzled by what she saw, her gaze fell on the man again, she realized he hadn't moved, he was dead, a great wound gaped at his middle, the blood was everywhere, flowing over the floor, she followed it and then she saw him.

He lay on the floor near the window, blood, blood everywhere. No, this couldn't be, she didn't want to believe, no, not him.

"My Lady" Brienne called from behind her, Sansa, still froze to the spot, didn't answer, she couldn't move, her eyes fixed on him, Tyrion, her husband, her love, 'No!' her inner voice screamed when she freed herself out of her agony, it perhaps lasted only blinks or hours she wasn't sure but she finally ran towards him, nearly falling over herself and fell on her knees at his side.

Was he dead? A wooden bold loomed out of his right shoulder, blood bubbled out of the wound, circling the shaft, following her instincts she grabbed the hem of her gown and pressed it at the wound. Her hands shacked; she was unaware of what was happened around her, only focused on Tyrion, trying to stop the blood. Did he breathe? Sansa couldn't see if his chest moved, his body parts were bend in strange ankles and she couldn't tell why. She couldn't think, her mind went into overdrive, tears streamed down her cheeks, but she didn't notice them. 'Don't die, don't die, don't die' It could have been moments or days, it didn't matter to her how long she pressed her gown against his wound, or when she started to sob. Somebody talked to her, who was it? She didn't want to look up, fearing he would be pale and dead the second she left him.

'A Maester', she thought they needed a Maester quick.

"Bring a Maester" she ordered to no one particular, pressing harder at the wound, the blood flow slowing and she thought she felt a breath, weak like a mirage, no, it was real, it had to be.

"My Lady" the voice again, Brienne, it was Brienne; the tall women laid her hand on Sansa's shoulder again. "My Lady, please let us ..."

"Where is the Maester, bring the Maester." Sansa cried, nearing her head towards her husband when his lips moved slightly. Yes, a breath, he was alive.

"My Lady" Brienne again "We must relocate him, on the bed, my Lady."

Yes. She was right, a bed, but no deathbed, a sickbed.

"Then help me" She said into the room, still to no one in particular, only focusing on Tyrion, but she calmed down slowly. She had to be calm, had to keep a cool mind, she had to focus, for him. But her mind betrayed her, letting her not cool down.

Two figures placed themselves on either side of her and lifted her small husband, she clung at him pressing her gown at the wound, not caring if she looked indecent, not wanting to let leave him alone. She was covered in blood, she was so often covered in blood in King's Landing, but this time it wasn't her own. They slowly stepped to the bedroom; Sansa only gazed at Tyrion, not noticing her surrounding, whatever happened was of no importance, only he was, only her Tyrion. The two figures, Sansa finally noticed it were Pod and one man of her guards placed him carefully on the bed, Sansa climbed with him on and sat beside him. She finally looked around, Pod stepped back and stood at the door now, the boy was covered in blood too; he relied on his red sword, red, blood. Brienne was suddenly at his side, sword in hand. Her other men were around, or in the other room. Sansa looked down again. Tyrion was paler and her heart stopped, but he breathed, he was alive, she didn't know what to feel, she was afraid he could die, confused about what had happened, furious on whoever attacked him and happy beyond measure he was alive, she didn't know how to manage all this feelings, they spread to her numb body, knotting her stomach. Tyrion suddenly moved, only a bit but another sign of live, good, yes, she laughed. Mad, wept, sobbed and giggled all at once, placing a kiss on his forehead, still pressing at the wound.

Where was the Maester?

-##-

The new Maester, Perestan she seemed to remember, was quick, or slow, she still couldn't determine the river of time. The man with the copper mask didn't bother to be gentle, he swept her aside with one hand and examined Tyrion's wound. Sansa sat beside Tyrion on the bed, feet beneath her, carefully not to disturb the Archmaester, but she held on her husband's hand, not wanting to let go, she would never let go.

"Will he be all right again?" She asked weakly, choking every word out of her mouth, not brave enough to ask if he would survive. The Archmaester didn't answer, tracing his hands over Tyrion, poking at the bolt, making him flinch. 'He hurts him.' She thought; what is this man doing? When he didn't cease she lost it. "What are you doing?" She asked, nearly screaming at him. "You'll hurt him!"

"Lady Sansa asked you a question." Brienne stated to the man in a very formidable tone, but the chopper man kept silence. "Answer!"

"I am preparing myself to remove the bolt, something which needs much skill, not to rupture an artery, if you aren't knowing in such arts you should keep quiet and let me follow my profession." The Archmaester schooled her in an arrogant but very smoothly voice without looking up. "He will survive." He said eventually, straightening himself. Sansa's knot disappeared, or shrank at least; she exhaled her breath and looked up to the man with a clear question in her gaze: 'What's next?'

He required the help of two guards, not allowing Brienne to participate, they held Tyrion down and he removed the bold with a knife he sterilized in boiling water. Sansa didn't left Tyrion's side, holding his hand, she focused on his face, not wanting to see how the Maester cuts open his flesh, Tyrion flinched and exhaled a groan when the man pulled the bold out.

"I need to remove the pieces which stuck inside, or the wound will fester." He told her, finally looking at her.

"But my niece won't stay here to see this." Sansa heard the hoarse voice of her great-uncle; she snapped her head up and saw him standing in the door, a worried expression on his face. Without another word he came towards her, she wanted to object but he pulled her up to her feet and dragged her out of the room.

"No, no, let me, I must stay with him." She screamed, trying to escape his grip, but he slowly led her out, without averting his eyes to her or Tyrion. Sansa wanted to stay, she couldn't leave him alone, but the Blackfish didn't hear, and nobody helped her, Pod and Brienne just stood there, not moving, eyes to the ground. The Archmaester seemed unimpressed and continued his work without sparing her another glance. Anger rose in Sansa, how could he, she felt an urge to be with Tyrion right now, a need, she had to stay.

Finally in the other room Ser Brynden positioned himself between her and the door towards the bedroom, blocking her way back, Pod and Brienne followed them, Sansa tried to get back but he didn't let her.

"Let me." She demanded like a grumpy child, still crying. "I must be with him." But he placed his hand on her shoulders and hold her tight, lowering himself to be on the same level as she was, glaring with his blue eyes into hers, his eyes pierced her like daggers, silently demanding of her to stand still. Sansa only could follow but stared back angrily.

"Sansa" He said to her in a surprisingly warm and calming tone. "Please child, calm down. You can't help him right now; the Maester has to attend to him, without you distracting him." He told her the hard truth, Sansa knew deep inside her but she did want to accept it, she had to be with him, her presence would help him, she argued illogical with herself, but eventually she stopped fighting back, letting her arms fell to her side. Her uncle gave her an sympathetic smile of reassurance and looked worriedly up and down her. Sansa followed his glance and realized what worried him so much. Her gown was over and over stained with blood, she turned her hands and saw the blood on them too, between her fingers, under her nails, she didn't want to know how her face might look like and her hands were shaking.

"Bring water, and a maid." The Blackfish ordered to a random man at one of the walls. Sansa relaxed a bit, knowing it was futile to fight back and he let go of her shoulders and stepped back from her. She let her eyes move over the room. The robed pile of blood and flesh still lay near the fireplace, Sansa eyed the man very carefully and eventually she recognized him, it was the eunuch Lord Varys and a crossbow lay next to him. Why did he do it? What would he gain if Tyrion died? She didn't know, but she suppressed the slightly urge to grab something and throw it after the corpse. She was furious, he dared to hurt Tyrion, her Tyrion, she wanted to rip him apart like a wolf her prey. Her eyes fell on the fireplace, the backplane wasn't there and a secret passageway opened into the dark, she didn't saw any of the children from earlier but Lord Bronn and Lucion, who already was in his armour, stood at the sides of the entrance and eyed it curiously, arguing quietly how to explore it. Something in her urged her to look in the other direction, the direction she seen Tyrion when she came in first, it wasn't spectacular, a sea of blood and a cup of wine, maybe it wasn't all blood, maybe there was wine too. The place somehow attract her on a way she couldn't determinate, she wanted to know what happened, wanted to touch it in hope it wouldn't be real, only a nightmare, but she couldn't, what if it wasn't a nightmare, if she touches it and it was wet and thick blood everything would be real. But then she took the first step towards it, when a gentle hand on her shoulder stopped her.

"No, child." Her uncle again, Sansa turned to him and saw him fixing his eyes at her with the attempt of a calming expression. Sansa nodded, turned away from the blood. Brienne brought her a chair and she sat down, her gown clung at her legs and her hands were sticky from Tyrion's slowly curdling blood. Her head started to swirl with a headache after she seated herself, she felt sick, an urge to vomit came over her, she took a few deep, calming breath and tried to relax, hoping Tyrion would be in good care by the new Maester. She started to tug at her gown, trying to remove some of the crusted blood on it, only to be occupied.

"What happened?" She heard her uncle asks towards Pod, she followed his gaze and saw the boy slowly raising his head.

"My Lord wanted to wait for Lady Sansa and asked me to wait outside." Pod began with his weak voice, slightly stuttering. "I heard a clink, like a cup and went in to look if Lord Tyrion needed assistance, maybe changing his clothes." He paused, looking nervously back at his feet, like he done something wrong, it wasn't wrong what he did only a bit overeager, something Tyrion sometimes schooled him for but Sansa was glad for his overzealous.

"Speak boy, what happened then?" Her uncle asked inpatient, startling the boy back; it seemed he already lost his little confidence.

"You didn't do anything wrong Pod, tell me what happened." Sansa said to him in her own weak unsteady voice, turning on the chair to face him, forcing a little smile of encouragement on her lips. It seemed to work and Pod started to speak again.

"I saw the man, Varys; I mean Lord Varys, or better the former Lord Varys, the Master of Whisperers." He stuttered. "He stood at the fireplace, with a crossbow, I …; I didn't hesitate, took my sword and attacked him, killing him." He said, gazing at the corpse at the fireplace. "I wanted to help Lord Tyrion but then the children came out of the fireplace."

"Children?" Her uncle asked as if he questioned the squire's mind.

"Yes, children, they came with knifes but when they saw Lor.., Varys on the floor it seemed they lost their orientation and just stood there, holding up there knifes." The Blackfish searched for a confirmation by the men around and found one of them nodding, and Pod continued. "Then they came to aid me, holding back the children. Then Lady Sansa arrived with her men and they fled through the fireplace." Pod ended.

Brynden Tully leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. The room was silent and for Sansa it seemed all waited for him or anybody to take the lead, she would have but she still felt numb and couldn't find a clear thought in her head, everything crossed around without order, only quick moments of clarity and then everything back to chaos. Why had this happened to her? Why had this city try to take everything away from her, first her father, her innocence and now her husband? Where the gods really so cruel, giving her a year of happiness after her torture under Joffrey to take everything away from her again? How did she deserve that? What would she do if he died; she didn't want to be without him, what would happen to Robb, her mother, Arya, Tommen or Margery? How would it go on?

"Secure the keep." She heard her uncle ordering, she looked up and saw him, turned to Lucion, who looked uncertain, first he looked to the closed bedroom-door and then to her, as if he asked permission.

'He asked permission.' She realized, she was the Lady and so he, not knowing what to do turned to her. She nodded quick, he straighten up and bowed sharp before leaving the room.

"And you" Brynden said to Bronn.

"And who made you the man in charge, 'Ser' Brynden?" Lord Bronn asked him challenging, empathizing her uncle's knighthood, he was a Lord, standing above her uncle, only Tyrion's word made him follow her uncle's orders until now. The former Sellsword leaned back at a column of the fireplace and smirked towards him, not bothering to follow Lucion's example and asking her for permission or orders.

"The Regent made me responsible when he appointed me as Master of Law." Her uncle replied, emphasizing every single word, wiping the nasty smirk from Lord Bronn's face. Sansa wasn't aware Tyrion planned to make him Master of Law, she knew he had something planed when he asked for Ser Brynden's presence but she never imagined this. But she was glad he did it, this would make everything easier. "Now, have I to school you about the position of the Master of Law or will you following my orders?" He asked dangerously.

"What is your wish my Lord." Bronn pressed out, visibly not happy about the situation but not ready to let this escalate.

"Take your best men and explore the passageway, find these children and bring them and whatever else you may find in the black cells." Her uncle said and Lord Bronn followed his orders without hesitation, but with a very dark facial expression that clearly stated this wasn't over.

Sansa didn't care for the moment about the feud between the men, she did, but not now, her body itched again, she felt like she would have to do something, anything, when to her relief a maid stepped in the room with a large bowl of water and set it beside her. The young black haired woman started to wash her hands, slowly taking one in hers and scrubbed them clean, Sansa observed her extensive, finally having something to do. After her hands, she washed her face with a cloth.

"Something to drink my Lady?" She asked her, after she put the cloth down into the now red water.

"No" she simply stated, not capable for more words, she feared everything she would drink or eat would find its way out sooner rather than late. The maid stood up and it seemed she wanted to help Sansa to get up in order to change her gown when the door to the bedroom opened slowly.

Sansa was on her feet in moments, her stomach querling and blood hasted through her body, anxious to know what happened. Archmaester Perestan paced slowly out of the room, his eyes piercing from behind his chopper mask. Sansa wanted to run at him, but her uncle unobtrusive placed himself between her and the Archmaester, but letting her kept him in her sight, so she could only glancing at him pleading.

"The Regent will survive." The man stated casually. Sansa exhaled her breath, her stomach turned and she felt something heavy falling from her heart. He will survive, she was so happy she could have cried again. "The bolt entered in a strange angle, only a few inch more at the left and he would have died, but the wound is sealed and will heal, if there is no infection, in the mean time." He explained further, but not too her, too her uncle. How could he dare? Tyrion was her husband, not his. "I gave him dreamwine, he will sleep until tomorrow. I will check on him in the morning." He said and left the room without looking back.

Sansa looked to her uncle; Brynden Tully looked back and gave her a nod. She hurried into the bedroom; the maid followed her without hesitation. The men Perestan asked for help had already changed the sheets and a blood red pile of the old laid in her way, she went around it and approached the bed. Tyrion lay on his side, head deep in the pillow, with a bandage over his chest, slowly breathing. Sansa climbed on the bed and crawled to him, placing herself besides him. She caressing his cheek and searched for signs of malaise, but he continued to sleep peacefully. He was alive and would be well soon. Sansa excused everybody remaining in the room, taking the help of the maid first to change in a nightgown and the she laid besides Tyrion, watching him sleep. She didn't want to do anything else than this, everything else she didn't care for at this moment. She fell into a deep sleep quick after, cuddling close to Tyrion.

-##-

Sickness woke her up in the morning, her stomach rumbled and she felt as if she was on the ship again, Sansa slowly rose and looked at her side. A cold shock hit her, Tyrion laid besides her, bandaged, what happened? But then the events of the night returned to her, and she couldn't hold on any longer, grabbing the night-bowl she released what was in her stomach. The door slowly opened and the black-haired maid came in.

"My Lady?" Sansa looked into the bowl, she most likely didn't eat enough or too much gingerbread, the stress was most likely too much for her stomach. The maid swept over to her and took the bowl out of her hand, put it aside and brought her a cup of water. She drank eagerly, wanting to bane the taste out of her mouth; she turned to her husband again and looked him up and down. He looked peacefully, much more peacefully than he should, considering what happened yesterday, she removed his hair out of his face and cupped his cheek, he was warm, not feverish but it worried her.

"When will Grand Maester Perestan return?" she asked, noticing how weak her voice was. She didn't feel well, the last night left her feelings confused, worries, anger, fear, fury and desperation fought inside of her to gain the upper hand. The eunuch tried to kill Tyrion and she didn't know why, was he alone, would his accomplices try again? The uncertainty almost made her mad.

"I don't know my Lady, but maybe Lord Tully knows." The maid startled her out of her thoughts. "He is outside, I will fetch him."

"No" Sansa gestured her to stop, her body was stiff and she had the urge to stretch her legs, she rose up from the bed, but she staggered and the maid hurried towards her and supported her. "Thank you" Sansa said, her head dizzy. "What is your name?"

"Viola, my Lady" she answered shy and stepped back to let her stand alone, before fastening a dressing gown around her shoulders.

"Thank you Viola." Sansa exhaled and smiled at the girl before walking to the door.

The corpse was removed, this was the first time she had noticed it, the blood wasn't there any longer too. The room was dim and Sansa heard snoring from the dark corners, the two men guarding the door straighten up when they saw her. Sansa's eyes followed the nearest snoring and she found her great-uncle, slumped into a chair beside the bedroom-door. Sansa drew closer to him, he looked peaceful too, but sleeping in his armour definitely was uncomfortable.

"Was he here all night?" Sansa asked Viola whispering, she didn't want to wake him.

"He refused to go my Lady." She answered as silent as Sansa. "He delegated the tasks, sent for his armour and stayed all night." Sansa was deeply stirred by all this care, she laid her hand on his, carefully not to wake him before turning towards the room again, Pod laid on the floor, head leaning against the wall, Brienne did the same, only at the fireplace, her sword lying on her lap and one of her hands at the hilt. Sansa was really moved by the scene, nobody could ever make something like this up. It was so sweet, they all were, staying here, protecting Tyrion and her, no matter whom they were, a famous old knight, a shy squire and a maiden-knight. Sansa tried to keep her tears away, as a girl she dreamed of knights, and imagine young handsome men like Loras Tyrell, he might be a true knight but these three were true knights too, more than the young, handsome one crowding most of Westeros.

But Sansa didn't want to wake them and turned back into the bedroom, climbing on the bed again, asking Viola to close the door and fetch Perestan, but quiet. She barley seated herself besides Tyrion when she felt him moving, her head snapped towards him and she saw him slowly opening is eyes.

Her heart was pounding fast again, goosebumps rising on her arms and neck and her breath went short. She slowly laid her hand at his arm, wanting to have contact with him and leaning closer, starring at his face. He exhaled a groan of discomfort and wanted to sit up, but he fell back on the mattress flinching in pain.

"What happened?" He asked her, or the room, in a weak husky voice, after a moment he used to stabilize himself at his elbows. Sansa, shaking a bit, hurried up and put a pillow under him as aid, before exhaling her breath and sitting up.

"You have been hurt." She said, literally chocking it out when the memories of the last night returned visibly in her head. "Lord Varys attacked you with a crossbow." She added unclear at his puzzled look. Tears trailing over her cheeks again.

"Varys?" He asked dizzy and trailed his arm over his bandages. "Maybe jealousy, if he had met me at the privy he most likely would have tore me apart by the sight of my manhood. Luckily I didn't drink so much yesterday." He joked, getting her to exhale a small coughing laughter between her sobs. He tuned slowly to her, rose up and kissed her, removing her tears with his thumps after cupping her cheeks.

"Don't you dare die, don't you dare leave me alone." She threatened him weakly, pressing her forehead at his, her cheeks wet of her tears.

"I would never." He assured her, Sansa wanted to hug him but saw the pain flashing up in his eyes, he didn't complain but she knew she accidentally touched his injury. She backed up, trying to stop her tears, sniffing her nose."What happened then? How did I survive?" He asked her, looking at her apologizing for flinching away. Sansa took a deep breath, calming her down, he was safe, she was safe, nobody could hurt them, knights waited outside.

"Pod saved you."She explained, observing his eyes widen.

"What?"

"He heard you and killed Varys, protecting you." He let himself fell back on the pillow, dipping deep into it and groaned again. "What is wrong?"

"Now, I have to make a Lord out of him." he explained, puzzling her with his statement. "He's done so twice now, he saved my live two times in a row and now I have to reward him extensively. I must find a castle, a big one, a suitable title and do you imagine how much more I must pay for Jeynes dowry now?"

"I am glad you feel better, when you can joke around intoxicated with dreamwine."She told him smiling, when he could joke he was better and it made her feel much calmer.

"Better, yes, but joking." He said, his eyebrows rising, he tried to look serious but failed massively, his expression made her laugh and he joined. "I think I should stand up." He exclaimed and tried, but flinched again by the pain and Sansa laid her hand on his chest and gently pressed him down.

"I beg to differ; you need bed-rest until the wound has healed, rest and saty in a stress-free environment." She schooled him calm, but feeling ridiculous saying such words to the Regent in such troubled times, but she didn't care, he had to heal and the realm had to wait, everybody would have to pass her before seeing him.

"I am the Regent of the King." He exhaled trying to sound strong but failed again. "I can't be absent from the court, not now."

"You could appoint a temporary substitute, like Lord Garlan or maybe my uncle." She suggested. Tyrion looked at her and she saw he was considering it, but then she saw something wicked in his eyes, especially in his black one, this made her somehow uncomfortable, she didn't fear him but this could only mean he had something malicious planed, like the one time he pretended he wanted to show her a fountain and she ended up with him bathing nude in a hidden pond.

"A good advice my love, but I think I have somebody better in mind for this." He told her sneaky, emphasising 'my love', he used this phrase only if he schemed something, puzzling her further

"And who would that be my Lord?" She asked him, she couldn't imagine who he meant, maybe Lord Bronn?

"You, of course, Sansa" he revealed her with a grin. She was stunned, she, Regent, no, she was only thirteen, fourteen in a few weeks, how could she rule?

"Tyrion I can't, I am ..." She wanted to object but he interrupted her.

"You are the Lady of Casterly Rock, the aunt or better 'auntie' of the King, not to mention the wife of the Regent." He explained her, taking a deep breath before continuing. "And most important the most brilliant person I ever met, I can't imagine anybody who could do this better than you." Sansa was stunned again, she didn't believe she was able to do this, but he did, so she would, he believed in her and she won't disappoint him. But what if he was wrong, she didn't want that, she wanted to be with him, helping him heal.

"But if I fail, what could happen then?" She asked, afraid by the task.

"You are perfect, and you are not Cersei, you will win the small council in moments for you, King and Queen are already on your side and you have your uncle to help you." he encouraged her. "And not to mention your greatest asset" He told her. "Me" he ended waving theatrically with his hands, flinching when he tried to move the left. She wanted to object when there was a knock at the door.

Viola stepped cautiously in and looked shy at her. "Grand Maester Perestan, my Lady." The Maester swept in the room, his robes billowing, his eyes piercing her behind his chopper mask. "Lord Garlan asked for my Lord's condition and the King demands to come." Viola added before Perestan turned to her and silenced her with his gaze.

"Good, my Lord is awake, how are you?" He asked Tyrion after turning to him, not sparing a glance for Sansa again.

"I am all right, Grand Maester." Tyrion replied dryly before gazing to the maid at the door. "Would you be so kind to fetch Lord Tully for me, I am sure he is in the front room." he asked her friendly, and Viola left after a quick curtsy.

"My Lord. You should ..." Perestan started but Tyrion gestured him to stop.

"First you should greet my Lady Sansa appropriate, your lack of courtesies is very disturbing." he scolded him, his protectiveness made Sansa smile, Perestans pride wasn't something she couldn't overlook in the light of the events but it bothered her.

"I am sorry, if I displeased you my Lady." The Archmaester pressed out, slightly bowing, Sansa could see that every part of him resisted.

The door swung open again and her uncle walked into the room with sure steps, he looked tired but this couldn't undermine his determined expression.

"You are all right." He stated to Tyrion before turning to her. "And you?"

"Everything is fine." she assured him.

"Yes I am fine." Tyrion spoke, trying to sitting up again, this time he succeeded. "Now that two members of the council are presence I have to announce something." He visible took a deep breath and grinned at the men, Sansa was a bit bashful, did she know what would follow. "As long as I am not capable of fulfil my duty as Regent utterly I declare my wife, Lady Sansa to the Regent of the Realm."

-##-

Perestan started to attend to Tyrion's wound when her uncle asked her to leave, she followed, and arriving in the other room, he turned to her.

"You don't have to do this alone, I will help you." He told her, laying his hand on her shoulder.

"I know" She told him and smiled. Pod and Brienne were already awake and standing at the walls. They look tired and Sansa decided to dismiss them with a gesture, so they could eat and sleep properly, there were enough men around her so she hadn't to feel unsafe. The same she told her uncle, who tried to object, same as Pod or Brienne but she swept their words away and rushed them out. She let Viola help her to change and sent her to bring something to eat for her and Tyrion. She waited outside of the bedroom, not wanting to interrupt the Archmaester, the man wasn't Luwin, she would have preferred him, but he was dead.

Sansa mused about her new position, would she able to manage it? Thousands of different scenarios caused her trouble, what if somebody attack the city, what if traitors storm the castle, what if Cersei try something, and uncountable more possibilities, one more ridiculous than the other. She was deep in thoughts when the bedroom-door opened and the Archmaester entered the room

"My Lady Regent, may I speak with you?" He asked, a bit bashful, startling her out of her thoughts. "In private?" Sansa felt her stomach knot again, was something wrong with Tyrion? She felt her face pale but then the Maester said: "It is an urgent matter of the realm." Sansa calmed down slowly, relieved nothing was wrong with Tyrion. "I bandaged Lord Tyrion and he will be fine, now the matter." he said impatience.

"He will heal?" She asked him cautiously, actually didn't wanting an answer, fearing his negation.

"He will." He said irritable. "My Lady is now the Regent of the realm and as such you need to hear what I have to say, in private."

"For me it looks like we are alone." She told him dryly, but curious. She didn't bother to stand up for him or offering him a chair, he never was courteous to her and she was tired and he never cared for her emotional state, but she just gestured for him to begin.

"As a matter of facts, my Lady, the order of the Maesters collects all kinds' information from around the world and has many ties to other powerful organisations in order to perfectly fulfil our purpose to serve." He started, sounding like he would give a lecture. "Based on our knowledge we advise the ruler of Westeros for the sake of the realm, always neutral."

"I know this Grand Maester." She assured him, didn't wanting that this would go forever, she was hungry and tired, not in the mood for long discussion.

"Of course my Lady." He apologized and continued. "We have been informed, from a reliable source that the last of the Targaryans, Daenerys, was able to gain a great amount of supporters and built up an army at Slavery Bay in order to conquer Westeros. She declared she would wipe out all of the 'Usurpers dogs' and their spawn."

"Are you fouling me?" she asked, sure he would joking around, there were no Targaryans who could threaten them, their house fell long time ago. What kind of sick game was this?

"No my Lady, I assure you I am deadly serious." His tone made clear he didn't fool around and this sent a cold shower over Sansa's neck, the prospect of a Targaryan invasion wasn't something to look forward to. "However, the Maesters would never question King Tommen's claim to the throne, according to westerosian law all male descendents, no matter how far away the line is, inherit before a female." He assured her quick. "But this threat must be dealt with and we can offer a solution, especially since a boy, who claimed he would be Aegon, son of Rhaegar, appeared."

"And how would this be possible?" Sansa pressed out, totally swamped with his revelations.

"There are many supporters of her and him in the free cities and here in Westeros, my Lady, individuals who augur an end to the Bravoosie hegemony over Essos coast or a new Targaryan reign. This 'persons' of high and low position support them with money, and eventually with soldiers. And now after this Aegon appeared they will work towards an alliance between them. But if we broke their support we will be able to weaken her and eventually end the existence of this threat and disable the last Targaryans."

"You mean kill them?" She asked not sure what to think, if the Targaryans really were back, could she help to kill them? Could she order the death of this Daenerys or this Aegon, causing whatever followed, even if it was the best for the realm. She was the Regent and had to protect the realm but this, she never imagined to order someone's death. And who were these supporters? Eventually there would be death, so much death and she would be responsible.

Perestan nodded at her question and she asked. "And what do you want from me?"

"You are the Regent now, my Lady, to weaken her support we need the help of the realm. In the free cities we can hit her supporters, mostly rich monger by hurting what they love even more than the end of Braavos, their money. An embargo and the help of the Redwyn fleet could, together with the Braavosie fleet, add enough pressure to break their support, the Iron Bank would do their part, in secret of course and then the Westerosie supporters will secede from her. After the one from Essos and Westeros fall, what would cause that nobody encourages an alliance between Daenerys and this Aegon, eventually they will fight about who has the better claim and all will break into pieces, the rest will be solved by other organisations in favour of this cause." Sansa gave him a doubting look. "If Daenerys succeed all attached to Robert Baratheon will die, the King, his family, you and your family." He told her, letting her stomach knot, no, not Tyrion, not her mother or Arya or Tommen or Margery, she couldn't let this happen. She had to protect them, this was her duty now, making sure everything will be good one day. "I also suspect Lord Varys served her course." Perestan add and her face flinched, clearly giving away her feelings. No, if she had to do this, she would, but she already felt the pressure of being Regent.

"Than do as suggested, I will sign it." She said to him, she had to made this decision and she would accept the results, but she didn't tell Perestan she would discuss it with Tyrion and her uncle before she would sign anything, like they said, she wasn't alone.

"Yes" he said, "my lady, this will be over soon, without a mess." he assured her bowing slightly "Your help will make it easier. After all it is the lesser evil." The Archmaester assured her bowing deeper and went away. One of his sentences bothered Sansa, 'Your help will make it easier', so it was already planned? Did he only want a back up? She had to investigate this sooner or later, with Tyrion then.

The door was opened again and Viola came inside with a plate full of food.

"Pardon my Lady, but I was delayed." she told her embarrassed, causing Sansa to turn to her.

"By whom?"

"By me." Tommen pressed himself past her and approached her. "You said we would eat together." He explained Sansa, at her rose eyebrow he added. "Lord Brynden said it would be all right when I asked him in the hall where you were."

"It is all right." Sansa smiled at him rose from the chair and hugged him.

"Is uncle Tyrion all right?" He asked her cautiously.

"Yes he is." she assured him, "and I am sure he would like to see you." She took his hand and guided him to Tyrion's sickbed.

The fire priest.

Zuquid stood on board of the ship and beheld the Red castle on the cliff, his long journey was finally over, he saw Quarth, Slavery Bay and dragons, the children of Valyria and now the capital of Westeros, the place the faith of humanity would be decided. He touched the scroll of his master, the scroll of the old in his bag and prayed to R'hllor for strength and guidance, the last battle would be occur soon and then the faith of the world and the future would be in balance and eventually there would be a result, somehow, if it continue or end this was the question.

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**First of all thanks to my Beta for rereading this so close to Christmas**

**I am afraid this will be the last chapter this year, uni takes much effort in the moment but I will be back next year**

**I really enjoy this and won't stop until I am finished**

**To all of you Merry Christmas and a happy new year**

**ps.: I wish reviews about the story for Christmas, what do you think?**


	31. Chapter 31

**Hi folks, hope you had a wonderful Christmas and a good start in this year**

**As always, I own nothing**

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Sansa wasn't aware of how hard it would be to be Regent; the duties, the responsibilities, but even worst was that she didn't know how childish grown men could act, arguing like old hags at the market, here, in the small council. Shouldn't they be the best? Ruling the realm in the best interest for everybody? But no, they argued over every little unimportant detail of any proposition. She sat in the chair for the Regent, this ridiculous pompous chair of Cersei, observing Lord Garlan and Lord Swyft arguing about the best way to deal with the Faith. They acted like children, it annoyed and amused her at the same time, but it was mostly annoying, she was extraordinary testy in the last days and had to concentrate not to lose her composer over what she had to listen to.

Tyrion's injury and the instability of the realm and the future brought her nerves to the edge, she only wanted to crawl beneath her sheets and let somebody else take the burden. But no, Tyrion insisted that she took the position of Regent, making it clear he thought she would be the best for the job. It flattered her of course, but scared her at the same time; she was only thirteen and should now rule, even if it was only temporary?

Tommen sat in his chair at her right; she agreed with Margery that he should sit in the council and learn how to rule, in a few years he would have to do it anyway, so it would be best to prepare him carefully. But he looked extremely bored; she sometimes had to nudge him so he wouldn't fall asleep. Margery sat on the other side of Tommen, still looking weak, but determined, despite her pale skin and black rings under the eyes. Sansa would like nothing more than to let her rest, but after dinner last night she decided she had to enlist her help, and was glad her friend granted it, despite her condition.

Sansa was skilled in dealing with Lords and Ladies, hosting feasts or managing a household, this was what she did at Casterly Rock what she trained for, she might advice Tyrion with his ruling, during their first time in King's Landing and at the Rock, but now she had to do it herself, and this was much more difficult. Decisions were made quickly, but far-sighted, she had to keep in mind what happened around her, who would be affected and so much more. She talked to Tyrion before the meetings of the council and would do the same later in the evening, getting his advice, working through the correspondence with him but still, she had to do so much herself. She soon realized how necessary Margery's help was, she was more skilled in this game, trained by her grandmother to play it, her mother and her Septa only told Sansa how to be a Lady, not a player.

Her uncle, who looked disapproving at the squabblers, was a great help too, morning he was the one constantly working to her aid, making Lucion Commander of the City Watch or appointing Lord Bronn as Master of Arms. He used his experience to deal with the defence of the keep and to lead the Lannister soldiers, she didn't understand such matters and without him she was already drowned in work, Sansa wasn't a warrior, she never cared or was interested in warfare. He also constantly demanded respect for her from the men who were not so eager to serve a young woman. Sansa found that sometimes the member of the council intimidated her, with the experience she thought they had. She already shared her conversation with Perestan with Tyrion and he supported her decision, he told her she did everything right and it would be the best way, still she wasn't sure if she acted right, Tyrion promised to investigate the matter further in his now available free time. The Maester said he should rest in bed for at least one or two weeks, so the only thing he could do was reading or writing, musing about everything on his mind, Sansa suspected he already enjoyed it too much.

The meeting of the council began early, after she spent the last day with preparing it and working through everything on Tyrion's, no her, desk. Normally it would have been appropriate to have this meeting yesterday but she didn't want to meet the council member before she had time to prepare herself and talking to Margery or Tommen about her appointment. The blockade of the Free Cities was discussed earlier and approved, her Uncle told the council it would be best to pressure the Free Cities so they won't help Stannis, a clever lie with which he rescued her from lying herself, she had problems opening her mouth in this round and let the Blackfish talk for her. Lord Garlan spoke in favour of the proposition and Lord Martel prompt spoke against it, it seemed their temporary alliance was over the moment Cersei wasn't in charge any more. Lord Bronn only had snarky comments and Lord Swyft was reserved in the matter. Lucion sat on the table too, as new Commander of the City Watch she found it appropriate that he sits at the table with them, but unfortunately his new task gave him his ebullient self-confidence back.

Another new member was Quintus Maellius a information handler out of King's Landing, the new Master of Whisperers, the a bit to wary, skinny man was the suggestion of Lord Garlan, apparently he used him to get his information since he arrived in the city. They say the man with the small, squealing voice worshipped nothing and was known for his very practically, opportunistic nature, Sansa wasn't sure what to think of him and she didn't trust him, neither did her uncle or Tyrion, but on the other hand she trusted Garlan, he was on their side, his sister's best interest laid in the alliance between lion and rose and they needed a Master of Whisperers. The seat of the Lordcommander of the Kingsguard was empty, Ser Jaime was still at Dragonstone, but they decided to offer Salladhor Saan a very gracious amount of gold to leave Blackwater Bay, her uncle spoke very firmly against paying the pirate but the Redwyn fleet was still at the Shield Islands and so there was no other choice other than letting Jaime rot at Dragonstone.

Lord Redwyn would also be the new Master of Ships, the decision was between him and Wyman Manderly, but to show that the alliance between Lannister and Tyrell wasn't harmed by Cersei the decision fell on Redwyn and she heard Manderly would have problems to come to the city because he was to fat to ride.

"Fat swims on top, he could float to the city, I fear a ship would break in two under him" Had been Tyrion's comment about the man when she discussed it with him last evening.

All in all they had a new council of men who apparently were capable of doing their part, 'but why have they be so childish?' she thought listening to their argumentation.

"We could just kill them all." Lord Bronn suggested, interrupting Lord Garlan and Swyft fight about who had the worst argumentation. "Hanging the sparrows, burning the Septas and beheading the Warrior's sons, you know like in the good old times."

"We are not King Maegor, letting the scaffold slosh with blood." He Uncle spat at him, their feud about who had the superior position in their camp was still on the table and it seemed it would never stop, Sansa thought it was stupid but unfortunately for both men it was a matter of pride.

"Actually King Maegor only put a bounty on their heads and let the severed heads be brought to him." Grand Maester Perestan interrupted her uncle, schooling him in the demeanour of a history teacher, letting everybody feel he had superior knowledge, Sansa didn't like it, nobody liked it, she thought he would be politer to her after she heard him out yesterday but after he had what he wanted from her his behaviour towards her changed back into the discourteous state it was before she was Regent.

"It would cost too much time to kill them all, alone how much robe we would need, and space."

Maellius added for consideration. "Of course we have enough space in front of the walls. And if the City Watch is ready I am sure this intelligence allergy sufferer will die quick, praying to their imaginary friends."

"The City Watch is ready to do as commanded" Lucion exhaled towards Sansa, his pompous red armour rattling, for her it looked like he was a bit too eager to prove himself, pleasing her. He was a Lannister, but a son of a minor line, he could only become important through Tyrion's or her favour and he wanted to be great, like all Lannister did. "We can gather them up in ..."

"You plan the executions before we even have decided what we will do." Her uncle interrupted him, banging his fist on the table, startling up everyone at the table. "You speak of blood, of death, but do you even know what you talking about?" He was clearly angry and irritable. But right, Lucion never fought in a battle and now he promised to kill thousands, Sansa found this thought awful.

"And what would you suggest?" Garlan asked in a mocking curious voice. "They want to have a trail with my sister under false accusations. I won't let his happen."

"We won't." Sansa assured him, finally speaking, she gave him an assuring glance and wanted to launch into the conversation to state her opinion but she couldn't even start.

"This is all because Queen Cersei gave them the right to pass judgement back." Grand Maester Perestan reminded them, letting her sit there with an already opened mouth to speak. "Jaehaerys the Conciliator took it away and she ..."

"Please no history lesson Maester." Lord Swyft said exhausted. "Queen Cersei had the right to do so and it might be not as wise as she thought but she did. And not all she did was wrong. How can we judge …"

"Did you see what her little pet did in the dungeons?" Bronn sneered at him. "I saw what this sick bastard Qyburn did on her behalf, not very nice." Bronn found Qyburn's laboratory in the dungeons, he told her uncle but he didn't reveal any details to her, it must have been so horrifying that it was even too much for the former Sellsword. Cersei's former Master of Whisperers found his head on a pike soon after that.

"Did it hurt your delicate stomach?" Oberyn Martel asked him with a malicious smile on his face, the 'advisor' to the council only gave remarks when he was in the mood or dirty comments on phrases in the speeches of other members. It horrified Sansa that after only one year with Tyrion she understood most of the dirty innuendoes, the dornish had a certain entertainment value but he never was very helpful. But mostly Oberyn Martel only sat in his chair and grinned in the round.

"Perhaps we simply should take the right to judge away from them and order the Faith to remove his men from the city when the reinforcements are here. We could avoid unnecessary blood this way, and later we can demand the disbandment of the Faith Militia." Lord Brynden suggested in a calmed down voice, gazing around with his deep blue eyes.

"I would prefer this way." Sansa spoke in favour for his idea. She didn't want to be responsible for the deaths of all these poor people, she felt it wasn't right. "They are his Grace's subjects and we should ..."

"Whit all due respect my Lady" Maellius interrupter her with a gesture. "But your, eh, womanly mercy could be wrong in this matter and could be seen as weakness. They could say you are a naïve child." He insulted her openly, calling her weak because she was what she was not an old man.

"How dare you insult her?" Her uncle already jumped to his feet barking at him, leaning over the table. Sansa laid her hand on his and gave it a tug, he should calm down, she had to fight this on her own. Glancing first at Lucion so he won't play her knight for her too she stood up and put her hand on the table, leaning to Maellius.

"My Lord," She slowly started in her sweetest voice, grinning at him. Tyrion told her she should grin when she had to speak to an 'uncomfortable' member of the council, it would make him uncomfortable too. She trained this grin with him in front of a mirror last night until he said it would be perfect. "They might see me as a naïve child, but they should remember who I am before going with such assumptions. I am the Lady of Casterly Rock, Regent for the King and a child of Winterfell. And if they think about that they might remember how my brother and he were even younger than me now, beat the best generals of the realm on the field of battle. And then they should imagine what I might be capable of, have I not enjoyed the same childhood as he had and further have my husband as my greatest admirer of my abilities to rule, as my supporter. You know him, and his skills, I am sure of that." She paused for a moment, letting her words sink in, observing the smiles on her uncle's and Margery's faces. "And now, do you think somebody like me could be naïve or weak? Do you think somebody like Lord Tywin's son would respect my abilities if I would be weak? Do you think I am still driven by 'womanly mercy' and not by best intent for the realm?" She asked him now with a dangerous tone in her voice she practised yesterday too.

"I would never my Lady." Maellius said rueful, his face blushing.

"Good." She stated cheerfully and sat down, gazing in the round. Margery looked like she would burst into laughter in any moment, Tommen observed her with wide eyes and her uncle looked at her proudly. Lord Garlan hid his mouth with his palm, maybe hiding a smile, Oberyn Martel didn't hide his grin and the rest of the council, including Bronn were dumbfounded. Sansa grinned to herself, Tyrion would have loved to see this, she proved that she could do this, be Regent and that she wasn't a little girl, too shy to talk or to ignore by them. "Does anybody see any problems with the proposition of Lord Brynden?"

"The Faith could demand the money, loan to the crown, back. The Faith Militia was the price for the clearance of the debts." Lord Swyft slowly answered her.

"Maybe House Lannister could cover them too then." Oberyn Martel suggested to her

"I am not sure if that would be wise. If House Lannister keeps going with covering the debts of the crown it may give the impression lions and not stags would rule." She answered him cautious for every word she spoke, Tyrion told her about the real state of the finances of the Lannister, they cloud, but they spent so much in the last year it wouldn't be wise to spend more. "Can the treasury cover the debts?"

"Perhaps, but we must demand the taxes from the parts of the realm which didn't pay during the war." Swyft answered her doubting.

"You mean the Vale of Arryn?" Garlan asked him rhetorical, leaning back gesturing north with his hand but looking at her uncle.

"Yes, the Vale, Lady Lysa refuses to pay since King Robert die." Swyft answered not aware it wasn't demanded.

"You speak of money, what if the Faith won't demobilize their men, what if they rather fight?" Bronn asked in the round. "I doubt the men we brought and the cityboys with sticks in their pretty gold cloaks could win against an angry mob of pious sparrows in superior numbers."

"I agree we need more men." Her uncle said clearly.

"And from where?" Garlan interjected "The Riverlands are drained out, the Westermen and half of the Reach is in the North, the rest are at the Shields or Iron Islands, the dornish are too far away and the Stormlords are with Stannis."

"What is with the men of the Vale?" Sansa asked, knowing her aunt didn't help Robb, but it was peace now, what had she to fear? Nothing. "We could sent a request to her, and also call on her to pay the taxes she owns the crown."

"Lysa will pay the taxes, but I am not sure if she will send us the men." her uncle pointed out, rubbing his temples.

"I thought your Tully words would be 'Family, Duty, Honour'? Where is the aid for her family? Where is the duty towards the King, or her honour?" Lord Bronn asked grinning, provocative her uncle. "Not much Tully in her, when I saw her she looked more like a big mother bird, hiding from her duties on a mountain top, not doing what she should. Like a Frey."

"How dare you!" The Blackfish jumped up again, he looked like he would jump over the table in his rage.

"Enough!" Sansa raised her voice, she was sick of this, the entire childish fighting, was it always like this, how could Tyrion bear this all day? "We will sent a raven to Lysa Arryn and remind her who she is obligated to serve, then we will see." She said holding up her hands and hoped her uncle would calm down. The situation wasn't ideal but they had no other choice. They couldn't defeat the Faith only with the City Watch and the few Westermen they had, they needed more men, and there were only available in the Vale of Arryn. Sansa hoped her aunt would see reason.

"I am afraid it won't be enough to just remind her of her duties my Lady." Perestan objected, again in his donnishness tone which annoyed Sansa beyond everything. The man with the chopper mask, raised, and folded his hands behind his back, like he wanted to give a lecture; he took a deep breath and continued. "I am sure the Faith won't give up the rights granted, history tells us …."

"Oh, please stop, not another history lesson Maester." Lord Swyft interrupted him, groaning in annoyance, throwing his head back. "I really wish we could get Maester Pycelle back, he never was so tedious." Sansa covered her mouth to hide her smile, Perestan had many tedious traits for sure and when she looked around the table it seemed the most member of the council agreed with Lord Swyft on that, but on the other hand she didn't want Pycelle back, in her eyes he was even worse than Perestan. The Grand Maester's eyes didn't look amused; they were as always the only part of his face to see, and consequently the only indicator for his mood.

"So ... eh … yes." He searched for words, sounding really insulted. "But I am afraid this isn't possible my Lord." He said bold finding his composure again, getting questioning gazed from the round. "Archmaester Pycelle was found dead some time ago, killed by an unknown with a bow, an arrow penetrated his neck. So I am afraid he won't be available any longer." The room was silent, Sansa didn't know Pycelle was dead, it seemed nobody knew.

"An arrow you say?" Oberyn Martel asked surprisingly interested, leaning over the table to the Archmaester who seated himself again.

"Yes, an arrow, but we don't know who it was." Perestan answered, obviously surprised by the interest of the dornish. The prince leaned back in his chair, grinning, puzzling Sansa.

-##-

The council meeting went on until the sun was down, and the dawn kept enter. Sansa felt the tiredness creeping in her legs and her stomach growled, but she couldn't imagine why, she ate at least one plate of cakes. She had made sure Viola provided fresh plates of cake for her, Tommen and Margery during the meeting and she was sure Viola brought new plates at least twice. But maybe she was wrong, her head was dizzy from the long day and she wanted peace. Tommen looked bored as hells; he leaned back in his chair, playing with his sleeve, not paying attention to the council. Sansa wasn't amused that it seems he didn't show so much interest in ruling than he should. How could she form him into a good King if he didn't pay attention? But maybe he was too young and she overreacted because of her tiredness. She gazed at Margery she looked tired too, maybe it was time to end the meeting for the day.

After they decided to try a non-violent way to deal with the Faith the conversation went too less important topics like the food supply of the realm now in the winter or the rebuilding of the land, taxes and budgets, not very interesting but it had to be done too. But for now it was enough, Sansa excused the council members and rose from her seat, determined to leave without further disturbances, she turned to Tommen and waited until he and Margery rose from their seats too, she wanted to escort them to their chambers, having some time with them, for the moment they would keep sleeping in different chambers, Margery needed rest they thought it might be better for her not to sleep with her husband in the same room, even if they didn't 'consummate' their bound. Sansa said good night to her uncle, who, after his first day with the council, looked like he was ready to murder one or two of them with bare hands, she wished him a good sleep and gestured Tommen to lead the way when Lucion stepped to her side.

"My Lady, a word please." He asked quietly with a deep bow.

"But only one or two Ser." she sighted and gave Tommen and Margery a pleading gesture to wait for her. "What can I do for you?"

"I just want to assure you that I don't think you are weak my Lady, I will always make sure nobody dare to insult you like that." He explained her, pressing his shoulders back and standing upright. "Nobody will insult you in my presence."

"I thank you for that." She said to him with a little smile before petting his shoulder. "I appreciate what you do, I really do. Keep going" A proud smile appeared at Lucion's face after her encouragement before he turned around and went to Lord Bronn who chatted with Maellius in a corner. Sansa was a bit taken aback by Lucion's words, she knew most of it was only his way of securing her favour but she believed there was sincerity in his words too. Yes, she would be able to do this, to be Regent, after her speech she felt the council accepted her, or at least some of them, the other, Perestan and Maellius at least won't underestimate her again or taken her for a foolish child, may they think her weak, she certainly was not.

-##-

Sansa escorted Tommen and Margery through the keep, Tommen showed signs of activity again, after he was so passive in the council, or better bored he was rather active now, hopping ahead, forcing at least two members of his Kingsguard to catch up with him, Ser Boros Blount was from the last day on assigned for gate-duty, he will spent his days guarding the main gate to the keep, out in the cold, for the time Sansa would be in the city, Ser Willam Wythers and Ser Hugh Clifton, together with Ser Balon Swann would guard the King.

Sansa and Margery walked side by side, silent, Sansa observed her friend very carefully on how she observed Tommen, she still didn't look as well as she did when she arrived in King's Landing, Sansa knew the city had a habit to do such to a girl and it angered her, first she had to endure Joffrey and then the Faith, at least Sansa had Tyrion to support her, to be with her, but who did had Margery? Tommen?

Arriving at the royal chambers Tommen waited for Sansa and Margery, eyeing them optimistic.

"Do you want to play something with me and Margery Sansa?" He asked cheerfully, smiling brightly at her.

"I think it would be best if Margery got to bed now Tommen." she explained him, the disappointment in his face hurt her, Sansa actually would have liked to spent some time with them but she could see how tired Margery was and feel how tired she was. "And you should go to bed too, tomorrow you, I and Tyrion have dinner with your mother, and you still have your lessons with Grand Maester Perestan too." Sansa calmly reminded him, she wasn't eager for the 'family dinner' tomorrow, neither was Tyrion, but on the one side they couldn't keep Tommen away from his mother or Cersei from him and on the other side they didn't want to leave him alone with her, for his own sake, so they had no choice.

"But I don't want to go to bed, I am not tired." He startled her out of her thoughts with a grumpy facial expression. "And I don't want to have lessons with Perestan, I don't like him."

'Me neither' thought Sansa but made sure not to say it out loud, instead she lowered herself down to his level and calmly told him: "I know, Tommen, but you must learn and in order to learn you must sleep, so please go to bed." The boy gave her a sign.

"But I am not tired. Auntie, please." He negotiated, looking at her with his big green eyes, but at her stern gaze he turned at Margery, hoping for help. "Margy, help me, please, you are my wife, aren't you supposed to help me."

"Oh, I am. But I am afraid your auntie has already spoken and I am powerless against her word." Margery explained him with a small laughter in her voice. "But" She put her index finger at her lips, lowered herself and whispered something in his ear Sansa couldn't understand. Sansa stood up and took a step back, eyeing them suspiciously. King and Queen started to giggle and Tommen looked up to Sansa again.

"Good night then." He said friendly and hugged her good night before doing the same with Margery, receiving a kiss on the forehead and went to his chambers. Sansa had no idea what just happened, she gazed at Margery who started to giggle even more.

"You look funny when you are dumbfounded."

-##-

"What did you tell him?" Sansa asked Margery after a while, on their way to the Maidentower.

"None of your business, it is something between me and my husband." She answered her mysterious and grinned, pretending to look in a different direction. Sansa gestured the guards to back up a little before turning to Margery again.

"How is it, to be married to Tommen? Do you even want it?" She asked her voice low and concerned, Margery obviously surprised by the change of topic was silent for a moment before answering.

"He is my third husband." Margery explained to her, looking to the ground. "Renly never looked at me and Joffrey …" She paused and exhaled her breath. "You know what he was." Sansa knew exactly what she meant and she already regretted to ask. Sansa wanted to say something, apologizing for bringing back Margery's bad memories but she spoke first. "I like Tommen, and after Joffrey I am glad not to have to perform any duties of a wife in bed rather than sleeping in it. I know it will change, and it will be awkward, considering Tommen sees me rather as his big sister than his wife, but at the moment I wouldn't exchange him for anybody."

"A big sister?" Sansa asked jokingly, she was moved by her words, she had feared Margery would be miserable with her marriage but it seemed this wasn't the case.

"He is like a kind-hearted stuffed toy, if you want to know it." Margery mocked back. "But on the other hand, your husband is older than you and he looked like a toy too." Then she grinned, coming closer to Sansa. "So it appears to me the age difference isn't so important, or is it?"

"I never said anything against it, I only asked because I wanted to make sure you don't stay just for the crown on your head."

"I am not Cersei." She sounded a bit offended.

"Oh believe me, I know that, but as your friend I want to make sure you are happy." Sansa laid her arm around Margery.

"Just make sure his character stays the same, than I will be happier than you can imagine."

"I will only add a bit more King to your 'stuffed toy' all right?" Sansa grinned back at her.

"For what could I pray more?" They both giggled and continued their walk, Sansa was so tired, she couldn't suppress a long yawn. "You looked tired." Margery commented.

"What betrayed me" Sansa asked tilling her head to the side.

"You should relax, after all that happened the last days can't be good. You will ride out with me, tomorrow." Sansa wanted to object, she had too much to do but Margery silenced her with a gesture. "I am the Queen I get what I want."

"As you wish your grace." Sansa answered smiling; yes a ride could be nice.

-##-

Arriving in her chambers, after she left Margery at the Maidentower, Sansa found them in a mess she never imagined. She quick went into the bedchamber and found Tyrion, lying on the bed with a book in his hands. Piles of books were around the bed, together with drained cups and used dishes, the sheets were full of crumb. He definitely had too much time for himself, if that's what happened after only two days of bed-rest she didn't want to know how it would be in a week. She wanted to say something but then she noticed he looked actually really cute, leaning against the headboard of the bed with the open book, illuminated by candles; Sansa leaned against the door frame and watched the scene with a smile.

"You are back." She heard him saying, he finally noticed her, he put the book aside, smiling at her and wanted to sit upright but flinched when he tried.

"It seems you enjoyed your free time." She commented on the state of the room smiling direct at him, she pretended not to have seen his flinch, his injury may worried her and pained her but he shouldn't feel like a porcelain puppet or obligated to pretend to be fine in her presence, he tend to ignore his injury and if Sansa had treated him like a injured child he wouldn't have liked that. Sansa approached the bed and let herself fell on the foot before crawling up to him, straddling him so that their head were on the same level to give him a deep passionate kiss. She laid at his said, wanting to cuddle close to him, but something stung in her side. Sansa reached around and brought out a book from under her back and wagged with it in front of his face. "Couldn't someone clean up this mess?" She asked him annoyed and teasingly, trying to wave some of the crumbs from the sheets.

"Sorry" He explained a bit shameful, looking around. "But I was busy all day and didn't notice the chaos. I call for a servant. Pod!" The door swung open and Pod, who Sansa already saw in the antechamber, looked in the room. "Call for the servants to clean up this mess." Tyrion ordered, gesturing around.

"And would you please go to Viola and say she should go to the kitchen to get us a late dinner." Sansa added quickly, her hunger wasn't satisfied and she wanted to eat something before she goes to sleep. "Smoked pork chop if possible and bread and maybe some fish. Oh, and cake." Looking a bit bewildered by her wishes Pod quickly bowed his head and left the room. Sansa turned her attention back to her husband, who, to her surprise, mustered her interested. "What?"

"Was the council meeting so hard? Didn't they let you out to eat?" He asked concerned, cupping her cheek. "I just realized how long you were gone, was something?"

"Oh, it was hard but I ate, don't worry." She told him grinning, getting her face closer to him. "And don't worry I was able to handle them."

"I never doubt that." He gave her a quick, light kiss before leaning back. Sounding pleased with himself. "You know, I wouldn't have asked you to shoulder this mess of responsibilities if I didn't believe you would be able to control these morons in the council. I was sure they would bow to you after moments and once again I was right."

"You must feel better than I thought if you are able to hide a complement to me, a proof that you love me so much that you would never put me in a desperate situation and an insult of the small council in a self-complement." She removed a lint from his shirt when she suddenly noticed a piece of parchment, hidden under his pillow. "What is that?" She asked curious and snapped it from him before he could stop her.

"Oh, this is nothing." He hastily explained and tried to get it back but Sansa was faster, it was a list of names and behind them what appeared to be motives:

_Pycelle - Not likely, loyal to him_

_Oberyn Martel  __ - Very likely, Ellia_

_Tyrell - Maybe but why then?_

_Varys - __Maybe, tried to kill me too_

_Stannis __ - Could be, killed own brother_

_Littlefinger - I would have get it out of him_

_Cersei - kinslayer? Not wanted to be married again?_

"What is that?" Sansa asked, fearing she already knew the answer. Tyrion looked suddenly very uncomfortable; he tried to find a new sitting position before answering her stern gaze.

"After Varys tried to kill me, you know, I thought about my father's death again and maybe there was more to it than it looked like." Sansa closed her eyes for a moment, processing his words, he already had this obsession with his father's death before, when he mused about it all day, but she thought it would be over, he searched for a reason, she understood that but she was sure it wasn't healthy.

"Only because Varys tried to kill you" She slowly started, trying not to choke at her words by the memory of him, sullied with blood. "Doesn't mean that your father was killed. Couldn't it be that you just have to much free time? And even if he was killed how do you intend to prove it?" She remembered him; she didn't want that he followed an obsession that only could lead into a bad end.

"Maybe you are right, maybe I have too much free time." He admitted to her. "But if somebody killed him I will find out and 'A Lannister always pays his debts'."

"Just don't search killer where nobody are." She requested, hoping he would listen to her. He leaned back in the pillow again and gave her a not very convincing nod, she would have to ask Pod to keep an eye on his doings, stress wasn't good for him at the moment.

"To other topics, you received ravens today, one from your mother." He reached behind him and held out two envelopes to her. "And one from your brother." Sansa took them and opened the one from Robb first.

She couldn't believe what she read, how could it? Her stomach felt like thousands butterflies would rise, she couldn't control her face any more, the corner of her mouth went up, she chocked out small laughter, panting, and she felt the tears streaming down her eyes, none of grief or pain, no, tears of joy.

"Sansa, what is going on, what happened?" She heard Tyrion asking her concerned, she flung her arms around him, embracing him firm, he laid one hand around her when she laid her head on his left shoulder. She felt how he reached behind him with his other arm and took the letter from her, holding it in front of him to read it. "Your brothers, they are alive."

"Yes they are. They are." She muffled in his neck. Bran and Rickon were alive, Robb was alive, Arya was alive all her siblings were alive, she was so happy; she couldn't imagine much more happiness. She stayed where she was embracing Tyrion not wanting to get lose. "Tell me I am awake, that it is not a dream, please." She begged him; Tyrion slowly freed himself out of her embrace and kissed her.

"Proof enough?"

"No." She answered him with a small voice, it was too good to be true, Tyrion followed the line of her jaw smiling at her, no it was too good, what if it was a dream, what if she woke up and she would be under Joffrey's heel again?

"Then maybe so: Why would you dream to be Regent, or to be married to me?" He asked her raising his eyebrows.

"You certainly underestimate yourself my dear." She told him, husky from the chocked laughter.

"But why would you dream I have no nose?" He continued convincing her it wasn't a dream, tracing his scar.

"Good point, but you know the traditional way to convince me this all isn't a dream would be a pinch"

"I would never do such thing to a Lady." He told her in false outrage, flinching when he tried to bring his right hand to his heart in a theatrical gesture.

"You are not benefiting your case with such a statement, you know?" It was harder to pretend there wasn't a flinch this time, but Sansa managed it, even with a slightly pang in her joy. She cuddled again near to his left side, resting her hand at his chest when they lay back again. Tyrion took up the letter again and hold it in front of him to finish reading, she didn't finish reading it, her emotions were too strong for that.

"It says they don't know where they are yet but they would find them." He summarised the rest for her.

"Wolfs always find their pack when they want." She was so happy she wouldn't accept less. "He will find them and then we will be together again."

"I say we will travel north as soon as the things are in order again, visiting them, how do you like that?"

"But the realm? Tommen, Margery, we have duties." She told him, deeply sad to say it, they left once and what happened in the afterwards was terrible, how could they leave again? Tears formed again in her eyes, why?

"We would come back." He whispered in her ear. "And King and Queen should travel to their loyal subjects, we just take them with us and let Garlan and your uncle play this game without us for a while. I would like to see Winterfell again and the North and you deserve it. Nobody will stand between you and them, promised." He was right; Sansa didn't thought of that, the prospect of seeing her brothers again washed away the sadness formed in her.

"Yes, I would like that." She started to kiss him again, not bothering the sound of the door opening behind her or the feeling of air a whirl by his hasty hand-movements gesturing whoever was at the door out. "The mess must stay then I suppose." She commented his actions after breaking the kiss. "Or was it my dinner, because if yes, you must bring it back."

"Don't worry it wasn't your dinner." he assured her grinning.

"What is written in my mother's letter?" She asked him, Sansa hadn't the will to open the second letter, her mother couldn't have known about Bran and Rickon so she feared it could be bad new and she didn't want to hear bad news.

Tyrion took up the letter and opened it, reading in silence. Sansa felt her anticipation rising and also fear creeping in her, what if something was wrong? But Tyrion smiled very amused at her before speaking.

"Your mother first asks how you doing, she is fine so are your sister and uncle, and then she writes you to ask you to ask me for a favour." He explained more and more amused by every word, his smile growing larger. "It appears the so called 'Brotherhood without Banners' laid down their weapons and surrender to the Lord of Riverrun, now after the war is over. She wants me as Regent to confirm the pardon Lord Tully granted all of them. What do you think?" Sansa was puzzled, she remembered to hear of this Brotherhood from Arya and then she knew why they were in need for a pardon.

"Why do you ask me?" She asked him curiously, didn't understanding his point.

"Granting such a pardon is the duty of the King, or the Regent." He smiled, exhaling small laughter. "You see the absurdity of this request? She only has to ask you now, not me, but your mother goes through all sorts of contortions to hide the fact that she wants you to beg for them by me, because they most likely deserve a punishment."

"Not so funny as you think." She said dryly. "But I think we give them the pardon, I ask Tommen to grant it tomorrow."

"Good because it appears your mother, concerned over the faith of your sister, decided to make a match for her, somebody out of this Brotherhood."

"What!" Sansa exhaled surprised and snatched the letter out of his fingers, reading the passage about Arya very careful. He spoke the truth, but why did her mother that? Was she concerned that Arya, after an undone marriage, would have problems finding a new suitor? Or did Arya knew one of the brotherhood from her time with them, she never mentioned anything like that nor was a name written in the letter. "Now we have to stop at Riverrun first, I want to know who this man is."

"You are not the only one here, believe me."

Damion

He was sick of all this, riding on his horse, wrapped in at least four cloaks heading north. He really hated it, after the Dreadfort fell and the Karstarks bend the knee only Stannis and some scattered Ironborn were left, but of course it wasn't as easy as it sounded. Damion let his gaze sweeping over his men, they were exhausted, cold, miserable and hungry, same were for Tarly's men, they were all from south of the Neck, not accustomed to the clime up here in the North and it was hell, they froze at the camp if the fire goes out, the horses died in the night, only the northerner seemed to have less problems, it was their land after all and it seemed they didn't care for the snow. And to top this all they were now on their way farther north, to the Wall, to Stannis. The imposer waited there, at the Wall with his Wildlings, declaring he would fight of some sort of invasion from the Others, Damion thought he most likely went mad, no wonder by a man with so many anger issues like Stannis. Damion once meet him in King's Landing, this much too serious, teeth grinding man with a broomstick so far up his arse Damion tried to see the top in his throat when he spoke. After only a single conversation with him he figured out that he was the kind of man who never was satisfied, always finding a reason to be offended, would King Robert have given him Storm's End he most likely would have been offended not to were granted Dragonstone, the seat of the heir.

However, Damion wasn't very eager to meet him on the battlefield, he was a skilled general and he wasn't sure the young Wolf could beat him, even with superior forces and Randyll Tarly at his side. When they discussed this yesterday, at Queenscrown he suggested that they just let him rot at the Wall, using their diplomatic influence to cut him from all supplies and wait, of course Lord Umber called him a 'Lannister coward' 'only able to fight with money' and insisted they would have to crush him, freeing the Nightwatch, how great really. And even better, they didn't have all their forces, Robb Stark sent out most cavalry to find his brothers, he thought they would find them, Damion on the other hand suspected the two children already dead, frozen somehow on their escape. But who was he? In a few days they would attack Castle Black, without much cavalry against a horde of savages, maybe they are lucky and someone kill Stannis before the Battle changes to his favour, if not this will be a waste of all this good men. Stannis experienced soldiers and ruff Wildlings, accustomed to this cold against a little Northmen host and exhausted freezing southerners who will be faint from cold and hunger before reaching Stannis line.

If this will be over in their favour Damion swore to himself he would make a long vacation in Dorne, if he has some parts of his body not frozen black at the end.

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	32. Chapter 32

**Like I said, reviews help, see the length of this chapter**

**I own nothing at all**

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Sansa was throwing up again and it was started to really worrying Tyrion, he didn't give much thought to it during their journey to King's Landing, everybody was sick, he had starved himself so he wouldn't have to climb on a box to vomit over the railing. It didn't stop the day after the attack at him, but he thought it could be because of stress about what happened, same as yesterday, he gave himself to the illusion it would be nothing but now, the third day after they left the ship, he couldn't pretend it was nothing any longer. Sansa had morning sickness, together with her unusual appetite, he had made a suspicion what it could be, and as the dwarf he was, it frighten him, nevertheless the prospect made him happy, more than he would have thought, but he could be wrong. He would ask her to see a Maester, somebody to examine her and then they would know for sure. Tyrion decided not to tell her of his suspicion, he didn't want to spoil something in case he was wrong, because what would be then? Sansa would be delighted by his suspicion, at least he hoped so, and if he was wrong she would be devastated, no he didn't want her to see like this, or taking the opportunity to tell him good news away from her, if he was right. He wasn't as impulsive as her brother, this stupid boy blared out that his brothers are alive to everybody in his family, raising all their hopes and he didn't even know if they are alive at all, Greyjoy could have been lying to save his pathetic live, or they could have died in the wilderness. Sansa was looking forward to seeing them but if they were dead, he couldn't even imagine what would be if it come to light that they are dead, he didn't want to know what this would do to her.

'Stupid boy'

But even against his better judgement Tyrion allowed himself some hope, if both of them are alive it would meant that his wife's happiness would increase and he liked that more than everything else. She didn't deserve different.

But enough with that, he thought to himself, it was time for him to stand up, he didn't want to leave Sansa alone with his dear sister, no matter what the Maester said what would be best for him, there was no chance he could miss dinner, or late breakfast, however she wanted to see it. He tried to sit up, but his right half stopped him with a piercing pain which made him fall back. He hated to be so vulnerable, inhibited by pain, luckily for him Sansa understood his feelings and pretended not to see his pain, even if she couldn't hide her worries as perfect as she might have thought. Her abilities to hide her true emotions weren't as good as they were during her last time in the capitol and Tyrion considered it as a change for the better, for him it indicated that she didn't saw the need to hide herself in her armour of courtesies any longer, this concluded for him that that her abilities were neglected in this point and for him it was good.

He tried again to sit up and this time he managed it, fighting back the pain, he slowly rose, stabilizing himself with his left arm at the bedpost. He couldn't do more at the time so he reached out for the little bottle filled with milk of the poppy on the side of the bed and took a small sip, not much, but enough so a warm feeling in his guts let the pain disappear. After the first dizzy moment he was able to look around in the bedchamber, Sansa was right, the place was a mess, old dishes and book, not that the books bothered him, but the leftovers did. He was so bored the last day that he didn't pay much attention to his surroundings, not knowing how bad it really looked like.

The first day after Varys attack he spent with Sansa, helping her adjusting to her new task and advising her, it was strange to see her in his position and he was worried about her, Tyrion knew how hard it was to survive the snake-pit called politics in Westeros and it was one of the hardest decisions he ever made, to send Sansa into it. He did it because he trusted her, trusted her abilities and because he knew there where nobody better for this. Still he didn't want this burden on her; he wanted to be back home, playing Cyvasse in the glass-garden, not being here. But they had to be, thanks to his sister, and thanks to Varys the only thing he could do was advise her, playing her part during the time she played his. Or better he tried to play her part, when showing her how to grin best, it took time but at the end it was lovely and cold at the same time. He was stunned by her, rehearsing it in front of the mirror, blushing, saying it would be stupid, wouldn't he have been injured he would have been all over her at her second try.

But yesterday she was away and he had nothing to do, Pod wasn't such a great interlocutor, at least if you weren't his feet and so he only could eat, sleep and read. In his boredom he started to muse over occurrences happened in the last year, and he found some questions he started to search answers for, not only the important once, no, totally odd trains of thoughts were went through by him, only to distract himself.

First he thought about Varys, he didn't understand why he tried to kill him, even with the information from Perestan, and he didn't know how reliable they were, it wasn't comprehensible for him. Yet after a while he started to get an idea. The eunuch came from across the Narrow Sea, the only thing they had about his personal background had been is word, questioned by Tyrion. During his first time as Hand of the King he somehow had a sort of relationship with the eunuch in which he didn't know if he was friend or foe, despite of that he liked him, his character was a riddle, a constant challenge for Tyrion to read him, he liked that, somehow he even trusted him. But Yesterday Tyrion realized that he actually never knew what Varys game was and because of his untimely death he would never know it. Bronn found some of his 'little birds', poor street rats without tongues, unfortunately a literal description so they didn't talk, naturally. During his deliberations Tyrion realized he didn't even know what hair-colour Varys had, he could have been a Targaryen and he wouldn't know. Why did he try to kill him? Who was he really? Had he allies across the Sea? What did he want? All questions he needed answers to but won't get them now he hadn't anyone to questioning, a pity. He didn't give up though, he sent ravens to all great castles in Westeros and across the Sea, offering money for reliable information about Varys, of course not under his name, he thought this might be stupid if Varys had allies. Tyrion ended up with collating what he knew about Varys, it wasn't much: He claimed to serve the realm, claimed to care for the smallfolk, his actions had proven this, maybe he only pitied them but this was more than most did, Varys had been born in the gutter, or at least he claimed so, he knew all secret passageways of the Red Keep and he tried to prevent Ned Stark's dead, helped him and nearly confirmed to him that he was a rival of Littlefinger. After all it wasn't much he knew and Tyrion hoped he would get more in time to fill the empty places in the puzzle called Varys.

When he thought about Varys's attempted assassination of him an old obsession of his came back to light, the death of his father. Tyrion remembered how obsessed he was with it shortly after the event, he remembered how the members of the court came to him for condolence and he asked himself if the person in front of him had been Lord Tywin's killer. He thought it through and through back then but hadn't found an answer, gods, he didn't even knew if his father was a killer, Pycelle foul wasn't able to find something, but this didn't have to mean anything. His father was poisoned, if he was killed after all, and so he tried to make a list of suspect, Tyrion even thought about Cersei as a possible suspect. In the end he had a list of names and possible motives but no answer, maybe it didn't matter. Lord Tywin was dead, and it occurred to him that it was for the better, the realm would be in peace soon, the war was, except for some little fires, over, would it be like that if his father was alive? Most likely not. Tyrion himself hated the man, for all he had done to him but he was his father and a Lannister couldn't let somebody kill his kin without paying the debt, even if the Lannister didn't know if he should kill the murderer or buy him a drink. He maybe should have lost interest at this when he was at Casterly Rock, but now he planned to investigate again. On the other hand Sansa had made a good point, he couldn't prove anything, but luckily in the snake pit of capital, backstabbing was an accepted form of interaction and if he would find enough to be sure, he would start to backstab. 'A Lannister always pays his debts'

Somehow, in his investigation, when he foolishly thought Joffrey might have been involved, he came to his other nephew, how Tommen changed in looks over the last year and how different his character was compared to Joffrey or other Lannisters. It was strange, he looked more like a Baratheon with his darker hair and his sturdy body, but this should be ridiculous, Cersei was too proud to bear her husband a true-born child. And still Tommen started to outgrow his Lannister looks somehow, Tyrion knew that hair sometimes went darker with age but he doubted it much, and even if he was a son of Robert was it relevant? A year ago Tommen looked like a Lannister and his eye-colour was still green. The idea was absurd, but an interesting puzzle he could solve when he grew sick of the other, so he ordered Pod to bring books about inheritance of traits, unfortunately there was only one and the Maester who wrote it wasn't very popular but, he described cases of blond-haired and black-haired children of black-haired men, if named man had a blond-haired woman under his ancestors, Robert Baratheon had indeed been a Targaryan, not blond but silver haired, as grandmother, maybe this was enough. He read and read and read until Sansa interrupted him.

She came back exhausted and hungry and he was so curious how it went in the small council, but the news of her brothers let them forget all of it. She looked so beautiful when she was happy, he always thought he didn't deserve her, and most likely he was right about that. The prospect of her brothers possible surviving ruled the rest of the evening and even if it was stupid of Robb Stark to spoil something that might wasn't there, Tyrion was happy to see her happy, especially at such times. He was happy too, he liked her little brothers, or better he liked Bran, the poor boy, crippled by his love-blind, much to rash brother, something he won't tell Sansa ever, who didn't look at him with disdain or mistrust when he had been in Winterfell, that was something he didn't forget.

A sound from the privy brought him finally back out of his thoughts; he realized he just sat on the bed for some time, lost in his own mind, not a good start for the day. Tyrion tried to slide to the edge of the bed but his right side stopped his plan, to his anger.

"Pod!" He screamed for his still squire, needing like a child for the fostress, he hated it. Pod marched in the room immediately, he most likely waited outside. "Bring me my clothes, and help me out of the bed before we grow together." He was annoyed by his current state, he couldn't do anything and it bothered him, he never was unfettered in his life, but this was worst, he couldn't even dress alone without pain or rolling out of the bed, he was even able to do so when he was dead drunk, at least he believed he was. Pod gave him a quick nod, followed by a hurried way to his clothed, he was still clumsy when he was nervous and dropped his shirt before catching it in the air. Tyrion sighed at the view, Pod was a good boy, but if he was nervous a drunk crone would be a better squire. Nevertheless in short time Podrick Payne would be a Lord, Tyrion intended to make his words true, granting him Riverspring, north of Sarsfield when he became fourteen and of age to rule the lands for himself, without some Payne relatives who would try to take control. Tyrion suggested he creates a new sigil for himself, a boy with sword and spear defending a dwarf, it would be suitable. Overcoming the obstacles with his shirt Pod stepped up to him and helped him to get his arm into the sleeve, Tyrion hushed him away when it came to the trousers, he would be damned to need his help with that, flinching and grimacing his face he was able to manage them up, but with his heels he needed help again, so with his west. Finally dressed he looked down at himself, a little bit ruffled but acceptable. Pod helped him to climb out of the bed, holding him like a child, standing on his feet Tyrion pushed him away balancing with his arms. He was a Lannister, a Lord he would be able to stand on his own, not supported by his squire, he straighten up and making up his shirt with his left arm, just in time to see Sansa arriving from the privy.

Her hair was chaotic and he could see at the look in her face that she wasn't well, her face was paler than usual and her eyes were redden, but Tyrion couldn't say he saw anything more beautiful than she, no matter how she looked like, with the best gown or in dirty rags, for him nothing matched her beauty. She smiled when she saw him, trying to bring her hair in order she came to him and lowering herself down on his level, after finding a comfortable position she started to toss at his clothes, making them more presentable.

"You shouldn't look like you just fell out of bed." She told him smiling, licking at her thump and using it to rub away something at the corner of his cheek. "Better." She claimed and pressed a kiss on his mouth. "Are you really sure you are able to come with me to the dinner, I am not sure the Maester would approve." She asked him worried, he could see she tried not to look at his shoulder; gingerly he cupped her cheek, tracing her jar with his little finger.

"Perestan said it would be fine." He lied to her when she leaned in his touch, closing her eyes.

"Liar." She whispered quiet, not stopping her doings, only bringing her hand on his at her cheek.

"I can't stay here without going mad; besides, I won't leave you alone with my sweet sister." He explained her calmly, stepping nearer to her. He didn't lie out of bad intention but he still felt bad about it. He not only wanted to be there to watch over his sister, he was sure Sansa was able to withstand Cersei for a simple dinner, no, he was selfish, wanting to be at her side, near Sansa, he had so few time with her yesterday and he won't have much until the crisis was over, with her as Regent or him, besides he wanted to ask Cersei some questions. But Sansa was the main reason, in the daydreams he had, when he had been bored the last day, he pictured himself with her alone at the Rock, nobody to bother them, the realm in order, only the two and no duties or intrigues, and now when he stood in front of her, he swore this would be their future, when Tommen was able to rule for himself and he found a suitable replacement for himself he would take Sansa to Casterly Rock or Winterfell, if she wanted, and then they would stay there, maybe occasionally visiting the other members of their family, maybe travelling through Westeros. Did she ever saw the wall, for sure never Oldtown; however he would show her them all.

"Even if I like to stay like we are, and I did." Her sweet voice startled him out of his so sweet dreams, forcing him friendly to open his eyes; he had closed short time before, and looking in her deep blue. "I fear I must clean my teeth before we can go to my beloved sister-in-law." Whit this words, she slowly, and to his unpleasant, get loose of his touch and rose to her full height, walking to the table with the clean bowl of water in front of the mirror.

"You should see a Maester. I am worried about you, vomiting every morning like we would feast away the nights." He told her, trying not to let his suspicion shine through, not too many words. Sansa didn't replied, seating herself on the chair in front of the table and grabbing for a little brush, a gadget from Lys to clean the teeth. Tyrion followed her steps, until he stood beside her. "Perestan will examine my wound this evening; I wish that he take a look on you too." Sansa, brushed her teeth for a while before spitting out the water and crème in her mouth, gurgled with fresh before turning to him.

"It is hardly more than a slightly indigestion, nothing to worry about." She told him calmly, letting him raise his right eyebrow. "Besides, I am not very eager to be in the same room as Perestan more than necessary, he is unsympathetic to me."

"To me it appears he is unsympathetic to everybody." Tyrion replied grinning, he wasn't ready to give up, Sansa would have a meeting with the Archmaester and if he had to drag her to him. "It seems to lie in his nature."

"The King would certainly agree to this." She added grabbing for her hairbrush, watching her starting to brush her hair Tyrion leaned with is left side at the table.

"What do you mean?" He asked her curious, what was with Tommen and the Maester? "Did he annoy him more than the rest? I never saw or heard Tommen disliking someone more than out of fear."

"Perestan seems to be not a very likeable teacher." She explains apparently absently, but Tyrion could see she was on full attention. "Margery told me it was really bad before her imprisonment and it seems nothing changed, we should do something about this."

"We will, for sure, I will look into it." He assured her, his opinion of Perestan sinking farther. He observed how she struggled with the hair at the back of her head and took the lead, climbing on a footstool, stabilizing himself at her chair. He bit back the pain, not wanting to look weak in her presence or worrying her. He took the hairbrush from her hand and started to brush her hair, it was hard only with his left hand, but manageable when she hold her hair. "How are the happy couple anyway?" He asked cautiously after he saw her closing her eyes in the mirror.

"Surprisingly functional, at least after what I heard. Even if Tommen sees Margery more like a big sister, it seems that she wanted to be his wife." She told her, Tyrion was grateful for her still closed eyes, so she couldn't see his grimaced face by the words 'big sister', reminded it him at his brother Jaime and his big sister. "Margery likes it not to have to consummate the marriage for now, until she heals, and Tommen is a good kid, traits she definitely likes. They will even sleep together in the same bed again soon." By her last sentences she opened her eyes, obviously hoping for some reaction from him, but he only smiled at her and continued his work.

"This is nice, I am sure Margery will be a good Queen for a good King." He told her before handing her the brush, he had finished with her hair, she looked at it in the mirror before turning on the chair to face him.

"Not bad, for the first time, you could practice." Grinning at him she put the brush back on the table using her hand to wave some hair out of her face, before turning and leaning close to the mirror again.

"Back to you and your sickness" He approached the topic again, wanting her to do it. "Maybe you must be there." He continued with a fake shame tone.

"Must be?" Now it was her turn to be curious facing him again.

"I am afraid I can't make this examination without you, you know my delicate stomach and all. And if you are already there you could let Perestan, no matter how unsympathetic he is look you over." He explained his plan to her, triggering a very unbelieving expression on her face.

"My poor husband can't do it alone?" She said to him like to a sick child with her highest voice "Poor Lord."

"Yes, poor Lord." He replied, not sounding offended because he wasn't by the playfully banter "Will you be with me?"

"If you wish."

-##-

Tyrion watched patiently how Sansa's new maid, Viola if he remembered right, helped her to dress; they would have to attend the dinner with Cersei in less than an hour. His stomach grumbled, the dinner was scheduled an hour before noon, so actually it was a late breakfast but Tommen's schedule didn't allow another time, or better Tyrion suggested this hour because Tommen would have to attend his lessons later and so Cersei couldn't extend the dinner in the late evening. He felt guilty holding Tommen away from his mother but he feared Cersei's influence on Tommen wouldn't be to his best, seeing Joffrey before his inner eye.

Viola just helped Sansa to knot the last laces on her deep red dress with grey lining and pleats?, she liked the combination of colours and he couldn't disagree, even if he wasn't such a great fashion expert he could see how perfectly they fitted with her white skin and auburn hair, red and grey, lion and wolf. She looked perfect, it still let his mouth pop open like a fish's when he saw her like that, she was glowing. He saw how Viola fastened the golden necklace with the sapphires around her neck and saw her reaching for the hairnet when he hold up his hand, he had something else in mind.

"Please wait; I have something for my wife." He told her, trying to rise from his place without grimacing in pain, and thanks to the milk of the poppy he just drank, it worked. He went to Sansa who looked at him curious and expectantly, he grinned.

"So you have something for me, what would that be." She asked amazed, lowering herself down on his level again.

"Oh, yes I have." He lead his left arm behind him and produced the silken sack, he hid there, giving it to Sansa. She took it eagerly and opened it, taking out a golden hairnet with rubies. Eyeing it and turning it she gave him a questioning gaze. "Put it on and see." He suggested, observing her giving it to Viola who put it on. "I thought the Regent should have something like that." The hairnet was one of his compensatory presents he had made for her in case of a surprising occasion, the rubies formed a dense tiara at the front, letting Sansa now look like she would wear a golden crown with rubies. A Lady might not be allowed to wear a crown, but there was nothing that said she couldn't wear a hairnet.

"It is beautiful." She smiled at him before kissing him deeply, arms around his neck. "Thank you."

"Everything for you." Tyrion breathed in her ear.

Sansa raised and smiling gave him a wink to go.

"We shouldn't let your sister wait." Exhaling he followed her words and took her hand to go. "Something else, I will ride out with Margery, after the dinner is over."

"You will?" He asked, disappointed he didn't want to share her with Margery for the day.

"Yes, she believed I am in need for some lady-time with her, after the entire day with the small council."

"Even if I don't like it to share you, I must agree with her." He admitted to her when they reached the door, Sansa should spend some time with her friend, he was elfish he knew that. He suddenly realized they didn't speak about the small council meeting yesterday, he should know what was discussed before meeting Cersei. "How was the small council meeting anyway?"

-##-

When they reached Cersei's dining room he still didn't found his composure back, too much laughing about Sansa's tale about her speech in the council, he would have given very much to see the faces of all present, oh yes, he had the perfect wife.

Cersei sat at the head of the table, today it looked like she wore her most expensive gown and jewellery, but this shimmer couldn't hide her true condition. The last year ravaged her, or maybe only the seven weeks with the Faith, but after all she didn't look like his sister any more. Cersei was always tall, thin and proud, even under Robert Baratheon she radiated that she was a Lannister and the most beautiful woman in the seven Kingdoms, even if Tyrion believed she couldn't match his wife, he had, despite his own feelings for her, to give her that. But today, how she sat there, with a cup of wine in her hand and an almost empty flagon by her side, she looked more like a female, blond version of her late husband, not as fat of course but definitely heavier, her body pressed in a to small gown. He observed that before, when Bronn brought her back to the keep. Her face was swollen from too much wine and something changed in her eyes, Tyrion would always remember her piercing, proud eyes, but now they looked rather haunted than anything else.

"Your grace." He greeted his sister, bowing his head as much as his injured shoulder allowed it, looking at her. Sansa did the same, bowed her head before she took the lead and walked him over to their chairs across from Cersei. Tyrion gestured to Pod in a hasty motion of his hand to pull out the chair for Sansa, injured or not he was not tall enough for this, he didn't want to make a comedy out of it. As usual Sansa sat down as gracefully as a human could do; meanwhile he had to wait for Pod to help him up so he could slump on the chair. His sister exhaled a small laughter, but to his thanks Sansa didn't even acknowledged it, putting her hand on his armrest.

"We must thank you for inviting us to dine with you and the King, your grace." Sansa gave Cersei her courtesies, as always with a sweet smile and a slightly bowed head, ignoring that this certainly wasn't Cersei's idea, more a requirement of them. Tyrion carefully observed his sister, she looked taken aback by Sansa's comment and after a moment and a sip of wine, she smiled viciously.

"Oh, how could I refuse to see you two, especially after my brother's injury. Are you doing well?" Tyrion spent, to his misfortune, too much time with her not to recognize her façade, scratching his scar, where his nose was, he leaned back. "I was in distress when the news of the attack came to me."

"I heal much better than last time, maybe because the new Grand Maester isn't Pycelle." She didn't even twitch by his hint about her responsibility at his scar or his time under Pycelle's dreamwine, the only thing she did was taking another sip of wine. During that a servant stepped between him and Sansa and offered some wine to him, he refused with a gesture, wine and milk of the poppy weren't such a good mixture and he wanted to stay sober when it came to deal with his sister today. Sansa followed his thought and asked for lemon-water.

"And how are you little dove, a wonderful gown you wear there, and such a unique hairnet." She feigning complemented Sansa, referring to her ruby crone, sounding as sweet and false as Tyrion thought possible, Cersei looked a bit like a satisfied cat with a mouse in front of her. An urge in Tyrion wanted to say something to aid Sansa but he remembered another occasion with Cersei doing so and held back, turning to observe how his wife would deal with her.

"Oh thank you your grace. It was a recent present from my dear husband." Her sweet voice and smile didn't disappoint Tyrion, Sansa touched the hairnet in a gesture of modesty that waved Cersei's expression of her face and replaced it with a sour one.

"Really, to which occasion?" She asked, glancing at Tyrion for a brief moment before recompose her smile in Sansa's direction, leaning a bit over the table to her.

"None in particular, your grace. It seems he just wanted to make my day." Sansa answered her calmly, her smile never disappearing from her face. When Cersei leaned back in her chair and guided her cup to her mouth Sansa added. "You know what kind of things a husband do to prove his love, you were married to." Tyrion was glad not to had cup at the moment because he would have spilled his drink all over the table, by Cersei's dumbfounded expression, her mouth stand open and she nearly dropped her cup. He had enormous problems not to laugh out loud, glancing at his side he saw that Sansa looked as calm and innocent as always, sitting upright in her chair, one of her hands at his armrest, not letting a hint of her feelings out. It amused Tyrion how she was able to play the innocent, naïve girl in presence of his sister, and how she used it to get back at her for all the things Cersei did to her. Tyrion leaned back, taking his cup of water and changed his interest back to his sister, waiting for her next move. He observed that she drowned her cup and grabbed for the flagon to pour the wine herself, forcefully giving the empty jar her maid demanding more before changing her attention to them again.

"I am glad your marriage played out so well little dove, considering the 'struggles' of my brother at the beginning." Her comeback followed and Tyrion found himself holding the armrest of his chair firmly. He wanted to spat something at her, maybe even leave, Cersei really hit a spot this time, a quick glance to Sansa confirmed that, she looked tense and as ready as he to spat something, her hand on his armrest trembled. Closing his eyes briefly he gathered his strength and put his left hand on hers, circling the back of her hand with his thump, only a small gesture but all they could do in Cersei's presence, or at least he thought so.

"Yes, your grace, sometimes time is needed, but then." Smiling at Cersei, Sansa cupped his cheek and pressed her lips against his, demanding access with her tongue, he gladly granted. When they separated from each other Tyrion forgot that Cersei was even in the room, only looking in Sansa's blue eyes wondering again how he deserved all this. A loud cough from Cersei startled them both, his sister looked very disapproving and launched into saying something but the sound of the opening door interrupted her.

Accompanied by two white knights of the Kingsguard Tommen entered the room, and walked straight to his mother. Cersei's face changed immediately by the sight of her son and she embraced him tight. The actually touching scene gave Sansa and Tyrion a pause from Cersei's attention, so they could stick their heads together.

"My sister, nice as always." Tyrion whispered his comment to her gazing for a moment to Cersei. Sansa just grinned at him, before kissing his forehead

"I think we weren't so bad." She conspiratorially whispered back, before turning her attention to Tommen who walked to them. "Your grace."

"Auntie, Uncle!"Tommen smiled at them, open armed.

-##-

The dinner was surprisingly uneventful, Cersei's attention laid on Tommen and how he had been the last weeks. The boy spent the time with stories about his cats and complaints about Perestan as teacher. Tyrion was now surer than this morning to do something about the man, he could understand that a boy didn't like his teacher but this constant complaints and the reports from other combined with his own experience with the Archmaester made it clear for him that he would have to look what happened in Tommen's lessons, maybe even after the dinner. Tommen's constant storytelling gave him and Sansa peace from Cersei, even if they sometimes had to interrupt her, defending Tommen of some of her comments or excessive remarks. Sansa was really good in this, she seemed to sense when Cersei wanted to make a comment against Tommen and jumped in before she had a chance to start, Tyrion only had to watch it with amusement, enjoying his eggs.

But then Tommen started to tell of the last meeting with the small council and Sansa's act as Regent.

"So you are the one who ruling now little dove?" Cersei asked dangerously, frowning at Tyrion and Sansa.

"Only temporary, until Tyrion will be able to take the rudder again and I am not alone." Sansa assured her, gesturing with her cup to him and Tommen. Tyrion didn't like in which direction the conversation moved, the atmosphere was even more uncomfortable than at the beginning.

"Then I must warn you, men not appreciate women with power, it scares them." Cersei told Sansa not taking her gaze from her.

"I must say I made different experiences, your grace." Sansa was calm, yes; she spoke cheerfully, casually smiling at Cersei. Tyrion could slice the air between them in half with a knife so tense it was.

"I think it is time for the King to attend his lessons with Archmaester Perestan." Tyrion interrupted the starting starring-contest between his wife and sister, it was enough, he believed it was time for him to use their escape plan out of this dinner. "Sansa, would you so kind to accompany Tommen, I think I will stay and discuss a matter with Cersei." Sansa eyed him suspiciously but he could also see that she was relief to be able to leave the room, giving him light kiss, whispering a goodbye and good luck in his ear; she rose from her chair, letting her hand slide over his left arm and approached Tommen.

"Your grace, as always a pleasure." Smiling again she bowed to his sister and offered Tommen her hand to go.

"I don't want to." Tommen exhaled, crossing his arms above his chest. "The Maester will be mean to me again."

"I know, but you are the King and you must learn." Sansa told him sympathetically, before Cersei even could open her mouth, which let her look a bit taken aback. "Your uncle promised to see into that."

"Today?" Tommen asked hopefully in his direction, Sansa followed his gaze, with questioning eyes.

"I will be with you short after this." He assured Tommen and watched with satisfaction how he relaxed and jumped from his seat.

"Then come on, we shouldn't let the Maester wait and when you done for today I think we can go into the Godswood with Margery this time." Sansa took his hand, waited until he mumbled a goodbye to his mother and left the room with him.

'She will be such a good mother' Tyrion thought to himself before looking around the room.

"Out, all of you!" He waved with his good arm and the servants scurried out of the room in extraordinary speed, letting him alone with his sister, who frowned at him uninhibited. The tension was nearly unbearable.

"So your little wife rules now?" She asked him drowning her cup at once before pouring more wine for herself.

"She is much better in that than you, she didn't get herself imprisoned by the Faith or nearly destroyed the realm." Tyrion taunted her, he didn't care anymore to be nice, Cersei already proved she wasn't willingly to be courtesies with Sansa, so why should he be with her.

"This was not my fault." She talked back like a child, sipping at her wine again; she had lost the elegant sitting position and leaned now half on her armrest, sighing after she spoke.

"Oh it clearly was your fault." He corrected her, taking a sip of his own drink, placing the cup in front of him before continuing calmly. "You don't understand what it means to rule, how this game is played."

"Oh, then enlighten me with your wisdom brother." Changing her sitting position again she placed her elbows on the table and folded her hands under her chin, giving him a fake smile.

"An old philosopher once write 'title don't honour people, people honour title'" He explained to her, trying to suppress his rising disdain for her, his right site started to hurt stronger again, the milk of the poppy ceased and so he tried not to move so much.

"Words of wisdom, from you brother?" She nearly laughed at him. "And where do you get such truly deep advice?"

"The library at Casterly Rock is very well equipped, not that you ever used it." He provoked her calmly but then raised his hand in a gesture she should wait before she tried to rip his head off. "Varys once told me a riddle about that." He started with an attempted explanation of his point. "Even if he was the man who tried to assassinate me I can't deny his wisdom with it." He could be wrong but it seemed to him to see disappointment flashing in Cersei's eyes by his words, but this didn't stop him from continuing, sounding horrifying like his father, lecturing him. "You believe people should follow you simply because you wear a crown on your head, but it doesn't matter if you have money, or a crown, or a god on your site, if the people don't believe this would give you any sort of power over them and that you be their best option. Anybody could declare himself King, but if nobody follows him he would be just a tiny bit of nothing, making a foul out of himself. You and your way scared away the people, this wouldn't be so bad in peace, but now you letting them think there is a better King or other for them, the Faith prove that. But first things first, you may have the crown but they followers believe stronger in the gods and their power than in yours, that's why you don't have power over them anymore. Give them a reason to believe you have more power, than they will follow you again."

"I can kill them, I have more power and when they fear me they will follow." Cersei objected, clearly not understanding his point.

"Like smashing their hands on their own anvils? Do it and you will have either no subjects left in time or find your own death. People are obedient out of fear yes, but only to a certain level, out of the fear will grow hate and mix that hate with desperation and there will be no reason for them not to rebel. Didn't you see that during the last riot? If they have nothing to lose than the hate for you, you are screwed. On the other side make them respect or better love you and you will have loyal subjects. People fight for honour, respect or out of fear, they kill for money, but they die for love, for their families and lovers. Why do you think they followed me out of the gates when Stannis attacked? Because of my skill as warrior, or my charismatic look? They fought for their love once." He obsessed over in a rage and so had to take a sip of his cup to calm down.

"So the Westermen love you? They love the little vicious dwarf?" Cersei was not convinced at all, amused by her own words, she certainly doubted his sanity right now, Tyrion could see that.

"No, they respect me, but they love Sansa, when did they love you the last time?" He asked her grinning evil, observing wrath rising on his sister's face and decided to continue quickly. "But back to the topic. The trick is to observe the men who understand this concept and making sure to find a consensus with them, simultaneously letting the people know that you are not a hate worthy monster, or at least pretending it. You must watch out that the one who understand how this game is played not hold the upper hand. If they all believe you are more powerful than they are, that people would die for you, you can gain respect and rule, Sansa has this ability." He ended his explanation but wanting to add something else. "And never start a war, even if you believe you can control it, you can't, at the end the fire becomes uncontrollable, even for the best player and consume you too."

"When did you get so 'wise', with such deep thoughts brother?" Cersei mocked him, giving him an unbelieving smile of hers.

"I had a year at the Rock and a library, together with the experiences I made here in this city, I thought this and that." Tyrion really tried to stay calm, he tried to show Cersei her mistakes but she was too proud to understand, or didn't want to, still thinking they only followed because of her last name.

"So tell me why did they follow father then?" Cersei asked, trying to destroy his argumentation, leaning back in her chair with a winning smile. His father had never been loved, this was right but he was respected.

"People love glory, they love fame, father could provide that, a great Lord, once established the people don't forget that, they lived through his grace and they love to live. Father showed what happened with people who don't follow him, but also rewarded the one who did. And people certainly kill for gold. They respected him, because he earned that respect, they feared him too, yes, but the respect was greater than the fear. They died for him too, who was the last ready to die for you, Cersei?" She hadn't no answer for that, her speechlessness was very satisfactory for Tyrion, he won this topic and he allowed himself to enjoy the victory over her for a second observing her frustrated face before starting his next topic on the list.

"Speaking of father, do you think he was killed?" Tyrion asked right out, wanting to see her reaction and she didn't disappointed.

"Yes, I think you killed him." Cersei admitted vicious, refilling her cup.

"Oh, you are on my list too." Tyrion informed her grinning, but gesturing an apologize in the direction of her indignant face. "I thought you might not wanted to get married again, and if it comforts you, you are not under my top suspects."

"How comforting, I assure you, you are right, I didn't kill him, and Pycelle this foul made it impossible for me to prove that you were it."

"Yes, Pycelle the foul, but believe me, even if I had enough reasons and I had, I didn't kill him, but if he was killed I will find out who was it." Cersei looked interesting now, maybe it wasn't a good idea to tell Cersei, he regretted it already, she could try to get her own revenge and this wasn't good at all, she killing random members of the court. Tyrion wanted to overcome the matter of their father's death soon.

"We are by family, I can tell you Jaime will return soon." He told her quick, changing the topic, observing her reaction; first she was surprised and joyless about the news until she found an indifferent façade.

"Oh will he? What a delight." She commented dryly, averting her eyes to the windows.

"What happened between you two?" He asked her, more concerned about Jaime than Cersei. Jaime was always so needy in terms to Cersei and he didn't like the thought that he might got hurt. On the other side he was glad that this unhealthy relationship seemed to be over. "I know he found out you fucked our cousin. I am sure he wasn't so amused about it, wasn't he?"

"He couldn't handle it for some reason, he's changed, more a child than he ever was." She discounted his words, after frowning at his comment about Lancel. Tyrion thought it might be better to let this topic rest too, before she would make him responsible for her quarrel with Jaime. He would talk with her again about father and Jaime, but he had to heal first, because without a gracious amount of wine he wouldn't be able to stand the topics again. Feeling the pain in his side more prominent he approached the next topic straightforwardly.

"Speaking of Jaime, I have a question about Tommen?" he asked cautiously, waiting for a frown but only get a questioning gaze from her.

"How sure are you about Tommen's um ..." Tyrion searched for the right word, playing with his left hand, he was embarrassed and highly uncomfortable to ask her such things but he had, even if it was only for his own curiosity. "Begetter?"

"What do you mean with that?" Cersei slowly placed the wine on the tale, and watched him bewildered.

"Tommen developed some; let's say traits not very Lannister like, in look and personality." Tyrion explained his question, growing more uncomfortable every moment; he shouldn't ask his sister about such things. How much he wished to have wine and more milk at the poppy in this moment. It wasn't that he never made inappropriate comments in her presence or was shy to insult her, but still this made him somehow uncomfortable, maybe he became soft, maybe Sansa made him soft, or let him be more carefully whit what he said.

"You imply Robert could be his father?" Cersei got his point, leaning her head back, she sounded weird for him, was she considering it?

"Could he? I meant I, um, know that you and he … but?" There weren't any words in any language he could use, joking around and taunting her was one thing but this was a serious conversation and it made him uncomfortable, no place for sarcasm.

"I had different ways to... tending to my duties as wife." Cersei, looking as uncomfortable as he was, answered him, she obviously didn't like this entire topic either. She started to tip with her fingers at her cup.

"So there is "he asked awkwardly "not even the slightest?"

"You mean if he forced himself upon me?" This was all he needed to finally feel sick, Cersei asked without hesitation and he was dumbfounded by her forthrightness. He nodded in agreement to her question, not able to form words. "Yes, but I don't think it is possible that Tommen …" Cersei suddenly paused, pale as death drowning her cup again before finding her façade back. "Maybe, who knows, he could be Roberts son."

"So we have the true heir on the throne, how comfortable." Tyrion grinned and joked trying to lighten the mood, he didn't like to ask but now his curiosity was at least in part satisfied. "Something else, are you pregnant?"

-##-

He could have guessed that Cersei would throw him out of the room for that question and his side still hurt from his precipitate departure out of the room. Maybe she was pregnant, maybe not, he wouldn't find out soon, that was for sure and so he focused on another issue in this damned walls, Tommen and his teacher. Accompanied by Pod and his guard Tyrion took the way to the library of the keep. He had to walk slowly because of his shoulder, the pain really slowed him down and he thought it wasn't such a brilliant idea to leave his bed this morning than it appeared.

"No this is wrong..." Tyrion heard a voice mumble from the other site of the thick oak-door to the library, gesturing one of his men to open the door for him he stepped inside. Tommen sat on a tiny chair, surrounded by unopened books, and parchment in front of him, Archmaester Perestan standing above him; it seemed that he dictated him something.

"Wrong!" The Maester snapped and hit the King with a role of parchment, the Kingsguard just stood at the side looking uncomfortable with the situation.

"Enough!" Tyrion shouted, gathering his strength to fight back the pain in his side he marched up to the pair and scowled at the Maester. It seemed he uses an old method of teaching, dictating and punishment, very dry and hated and recognised by Tyrion. He didn't want Tommen to endure such, especially not by someone like Perestan, making a quick decision he positioned himself between Tommen, who looked at him with relief and the man with the chopper mask. "I see your skills to teach my nephew aren't the best, from now on, I will attend to his studies, not you. Out, now!"

Lucion

Lucion used a handkerchief to polish a stain on his armour; after he was happy with the reflection of the torch in the metal he tossed it away and looked around the Cobbler's Square. He just left the West Barracks of the City Watch and wanted back to the Red Keep. He took it as his personal duty to muster the men under his command and so he visited the barracks all day. He was very proud to be the new Commander of the City Watch and to sit in the small council, but on the other hand, he was a Lannister and so he deserved that. If he proved himself in this position in the eyes of his cousin and his wife the way would be open for him to even higher callings, maybe even the position as custodian of the Rock one day.

Fastening his cloak tighter around himself he walked interested to a gathering of people in the centre on the Square, the people acted crazy lately, just this morning some guy in a red robe asked him at the docks for a large shadow. It was already dark and the snow scrunching under his boots, he only wished to be back at the keep, with a nice hot stew and maybe a maid out of the service of the high-born Ladies, but at a pinch whore out of a brothel would do too.

Reaching the crowd he saw a man, most likely a Septon, considering his robe, standing on a box talking to the people.

"And why should we accept that Queens lying in bed with lesser men and withdraw themselves from just trails, that the gods are neglected and the young King under the thumb of parvenus and a dwarf. And to crown it all this ... this petticoat government of an infidel wolf's bitch and the rose whore given by the Imp, why should we accept that, good people?" He screamed to the crowd. For Lucion this was already too much, nobody would insult the Lady or the Lord of Casterly Rock this way. He gestured to the men who accompanied him to get the Septon from his box. The crowd grew restless when they dragged him from his podium so Lucion climbed on it, hands raised.

"Good people, good people of King's Landing." He tried to gain attention. "Believe me when I say, everything that has happened is in your best interest, trust your King and his family. Didn't Lord Tyrion stop the war here in the south?"

"Down there, lion!"

"Pathetic child!"

"Down with the King!"

The crowd screamed and Lucion had enough, maybe there was need for an example. Climbing down from the box he had his men forming a circle around him, to hold back the mob. He wanted the Goldcloaks break of the gathering, but not before he had dealt with the Septon. The older man was hold by two Goldcloaks who forced him on his knees when Lucion positioned himself in front of him, drawing his sword.

"Withdrawal your insults of our Queen and Lord and Lady Lannister." He ordered him, his sword at his throat.

"You can't ban my words, they are the words of the gods, I ..." He couldn't finish because Lucion rammed his mailed fist into his face, seeing his teeth falling out the Septon fell limp. The crowd now screamed and it felt suddenly not very safe, Lucion ordered his men to break up the crowd with drawn weapons. He hoped it would go without problems, when his men pushed away the angry mob but then everything escalated; from somewhere the Sparrows arrived, armed and like it seemed very angry and they attacked his men with maces. Lucion started panicking by the superior power, his heart beat in his chest like it wanted out, he took his sword and rammed it into the scull of one of these dirty peasants. The rising scream were deafening, the Sparrows now got help from the commoners and he and his men had to fight their way out, dozens of commoners died, some of his men too. The way to the barracks was cut and so they fled to the keep, an angry mob behind them.

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**I hope you liked it and review, from now on I will answer to all reviews made**

**Don't get use to such long chapters; maybe the next will be shorter**


	33. Chapter 33

**Sorry for the delay but I found this particular chapter really hard to write**

**First thanks to my beta-reader**

**I own nothing**

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Snow slowly fell from the sky, powdering the surroundings, letting the Kingswood appear like an untouched mystery out of a fairy tale. Sansa rode on her white mare aside of Margery, who rode an equal one. Sansa shifted the grey cloak with the fur collar she wore over her red dress to sit more comfortable. She gazed to Margery, she wore a white cloak, only her brown hair appeared under her cap and showed a contrast to the surrounding white, apparently she hadn't any problems whit it like Sansa. After being happy with the cloak Sansa adjusted her hood against the snow which had blew it from her head, searching for the best way so it wouldn't be blown away by the wind again.

Sansa was really glad she had agreed to this amusement, the light snowfall and the scenery of the Kingswood at the other shore of the Blackwater let the scene look idyllic, a sharp contrast to the struggles in King's Landing. After she had left the very unpleased Tommen at his lesson, rejecting the boys pleads to let his go with them, promising him Tyrion would be with him soon, checking on Perestan, Sansa had walked back to her chambers and changed in more comfortable clothes for the ride with Margery, only the new hairnet stayed on her head. She really liked it, a very sophisticated present of Tyrion, but as always she suspected there was more with his present then anybody could see on the first look, it bothered her that she couldn't determinate what it was, provoking Cersei couldn't be the reason, because he had to have had it made long before they had left for the capitol. Afterwards she went to the stables to meet Margery, glad to be free from Cersei so early in the day.

She still had had a bad feeling about Tyrion, letting him alone in the keep, especially with Cersei as company. Sansa had sensed he wanted to spend the afternoon with her and she saw his disappointed face when she told him about her plans with Margery. Even his concession she needed this jaunt didn't changed her feelings, after seeing him last evening and this morning she was worried about his condition. Pod had told her he had drank at least three vials of milk of the poppy, a dose suitable for a full-grown man but not for him. Sansa well knew about the effects the drug could have, mild delusions could appear or hallucinations in the worst case. She already suspected it had cast a different light on his list of his father's potential killer for him, she feared he would become paranoid, seeing things which weren't there. She worried he could become obsessed over something not real. Cersei was another matter to worry about, during her visits she had given her spiteful attention directly to her but she could handle that, she had enough experience with the dowager Queen to play her acting as a daft girl, which she could use to drive her insane. But after she had went with Tommen Cersei was alone with Tyrion, and Sansa wasn't sure how this would end, not good, that was for sure.

There was more between the siblings than Tyrion had told her, some family secrets, buried deep down in a pit, something that made Tyrion tense when she mentioned his twin siblings and causing hate between Tyrion and Cersei. She knew sibling rivalry, experienced it herself with Arya but this was different with the Lannisters, at least with Lord Tywin's children. Back at the Rock, during the first months, she had feared he wouldn't trust her, because he didn't tell her, but now she suspected he was ashamed about his siblings, maybe one day he would tell her but she wouldn't pressure him to do so. Either way, his condition wasn't the best, even if he fooled himself, he couldn't fool her.

Sansa realized she would have to see to this matter during the next days, after she had her examination with Perestan. Sansa hadn't a clue why Tyrion insisted so much on this, yes, he was always in worry about her and it flattered and annoyed her, but this was more than usual, maybe the milk of the poppy did more than she already thought to his mind.

Arrived at the stables, Margery surprised her with two white horses, one for each of them, matching sisters she told her before taking the lead and silently guided her out of the City in the white field behind the King's Gate. Traversing the city Sansa noticed with relief that the citizens hadn't hid from her any longer, they had stood beside the streets, watching them passing by with wide eyes. Sansa smiled at them, following Margery's lead she even waved occasionally. Sansa couldn't ban the uncomfortable feelings in her stomach, remembering the riot of King's Landing back in Joffrey's days. Back then the Hound protected her; he had saved her from out of the crowd. Sansa knew he was dead, slain by the Freys, she was sorry for him he didn't deserve such an end, but she wasn't sorry any more that she hadn't gone with him, if she had she wouldn't have what she had now, after all the gods were merciful with her and all had led to a much better outcome than she ever could have imagined or dreamed back then. The oppressive feeling in her stomach about her memories was only slightly amended by their guards. They were only accompanied by a small host of fifty men, Tyrion actually wanted them to have one hundred, Margery even had told her Garlan wanted her to have at least two hundred men, but no, this should be a relaxing experience, and none of them had the urge to be pressed into a small army. She knew she was safe but still, she had been happy when they finally left the city.

Margery had told her at the beginning she wouldn't accept her worrying the entire time, Sansa really enjoyed the following ride, trying to get her head free, they led their horses at a smart gallop over the fields behind the lines of houses, laughing, letting their guards needing to catch up, and here they were now.

After a while tearing through the countryside they slowed down, trotting along the river. So they could talk.

"You look better" Sansa complimented Margery, adjusting her hood again, her friend really looked better, her skin redden by the wind and the endeavour of riding, the rings under her eyes had disappeared, she looked healthy again.

"Thanks, and you look well, too, downright glowing." Margery smiled at her, using her rein to guide her horse nearer too hers. They rode along a little cart-way near the Blackwater shore which led to the open lands west of the city. The air was much cleaner out there, no smell of the capital or noise, just peace, their guards already caught up, grinning at Brienne's disapproving look Sansa bowed slightly to apologize and waited until Brienne gestured the men how to position around them before Sansa asked her for a little more privacy. Sighting Brienne gestured again and the horsemen took a comfortable distance, but only as much as they couldn't hear what both girls talked about when they spoke low.

"Do you really think the Faith will just back up when the King order them to?" Margery asked out of nowhere in her casual tone, when the guards where far enough away.

"I thought we do this to relax, not to discuss politics?" Sansa asked gazing at her friend unsure what was the meaning behind her question.

"Of course but what isn't relaxing about two girls enjoying a ride, talking about their daily business before getting to dresses and boys?" Margery asked innocent, looking grinning in the air. Sansa wasn't sure what she meant, maybe it was just something she did with her cousins, or she wanted to test her, if she knew what she did. Smart, that Sansa had to give her, couple fun with work. On the other side maybe it was good to talk about all of this first, having an empty head later and no unasked questions.

"Maybe" Sansa, deciding to go with her idea. She thought maybe the talk about politics was just something Margery did for amusement; maybe her grandmother had a part in this. "If we won't give them a reason of any kind they don't have a chance. How can they claim to speak for the commoners when they do the same, we nobles do. Fighting for power on the battlefield?"

"Please tell me you are not so naïve." Margery looked at her quizzical, pressing her eyebrows together.

"Oh no, not anymore." Sansa laughed out, throwing her head back lightly what caused her hood to fell back. Annoyed by the hood she grabbed it and pulled it over her head again. 'Maybe I could sow it at the cap.' She thought before noticing Margery amused face. "What?"

"You and your hood, not best friends are you?"

"Apparently not, but what can I do?" Sansa asked rhetorically, not so amused about it like Margery. "Back to your question" She tried to shift her attention "I think the only way we can bring them to complete submission under Tommen is to outnumber them so high that the not so pious member of the Faith Militia decide it wouldn't be worth it to die for their faith, maybe even cause a little revolt beyond the Most Devout against the High Septon. If they are not willing to go down than we have a chance to win without bloodshed. I hope it will be like this but I fear it won't be."

"I share your hopes." Margery admitted, her face equally concerned than hers. "But I think we can't just end the crisis and go on like before."

"What do you mean?" Sansa was puzzled, sure the Faith was a problem right now but she never thought something would change in the long-term, it was how it used to be, why should it change? Sansa held the reins tighter to circle a stone on the path, she and Margery separated for a moment before being back together. Sansa could now see the determined look on her friend's face.

"I think we must clear the role of the Faith in the Seven Kingdoms once and for all, so something like that won't happen again. The High Septon must submit to the King, forever. He can't stand alone any longer; they are only subjects after all. The Throne should control them, nobody else." Margery's words were clear, concrete. Sansa never thought of that and she never imagined Margery having such thoughts. Maybe it was because of her imprisoned by the Faith, maybe the weeks in a cell planted a seed of hate in her. Sansa knew how this could happen, she once hated all Lannister, wanted her children to teach to hate all Lannister. Such seeds growing quick and in a Tyrell Sansa was sure they grow strong too.

"So you want what?" Sansa asked cautious, wanting to see how strong her aversion really was. She leaned to her friend, as much as she could without falling from her horse.

"I want the High Septon throwing himself in the dust before the Iron Throne, offering the King eternal obedience. I want justice." Sansa laid her hand on Margery's shoulder, tugging it lightly.

"You will get your justice." She promised, even if she wasn't sure Margery would get what she said she wanted. After a while of silence Sansa asked emphatically: "It was bad wasn't it? I mean I knew it was bad but you didn't tell me all right?" Margery averted her eyes by Sansa's words, trying to hide her pained expression, but she couldn't hide it from Sansa. "You can tell me, I won't tell anybody." Sansa wouldn't let go, not on this topic, not now. She realized Margery experienced something even worse than Sansa suspected, something laid on her soul and she was sure it would help Margery to speak about it. It helped Sansa to speak about her grief, long time ago.

Margery kept silent for a while and Sansa decided to let her some time, waiting on what would hopefully happen soon she rode besides her marvelling the countryside. In the south she could see the spur of the Tumbleton Mountains, white hills of snow and stone in the flat Landscape and west of her was the river bifurcation to the God's Eye. Only south-west of them where wood, the rest of the periphery of King's Landing was flat cluttered with fields and little villages. Sansa never put much interest in the area around the Capitol, but knowing Tyrion's plans she expected to spend at least the next few years in the city. Actually it was a very beautiful place, only the cancerous ulcer of a city disfigured it. Maybe if they build another castle near the city, the court could live there, away from the noise and smell but near enough so it could still be the capital. It would also be safer; maybe she should tell Tyrion about this idea.

"I started to believe them." Margery spoke and caused Sansa to let go of her thoughts, turning to her. Margery looked down with a depressed glance, she was talking very low and Sansa leaned in to her. "They told me I am to confess and I slowly started to believe I should, first I just wanted to lie even if this would have meant my death but I always fought back the urge, my will to live was stronger even through the torture. But after a few weeks I forgot what was right and what they claimed. I just denied, not forgetting the deaths man, but then I started asking what they wanted me to confess." A little sob escaped her and Sansa slowed down her horse and put her hand back on Margery's shoulder, trying her best to embracing her. "They said I sinned, dishonoured my holy vows, said I would be impure, I wouldn't be worthy to call myself Queen or even to live, I would be scouring. After a while I started to believe them, wanting it to be over." Margery's eyes escaped a few tears and now Sansa was the one developing a very strong despise of the Faith, even more than she already had after her first visit by Margery. Her one hand still on the rein tightened, but Sansa forced herself not to lose her composer, she had to be strong for Margery, being her cornerstone.

"They are liars." She insured her, with the thought in the back of her head that she was to merciful with them. "You will prove them wrong." Sansa assured Margery, knowing perfectly well that hole phrases weren't enough she needed the prospect of something better. "You will be a Queen outshining all who came before you." Margery looked up at her, her tears ceased, but with an undeterminable expression. "On the other side. Given the history of the seven Kingdoms and the House Baratheon, not such a hard task."Sansa grinned at her and was rewarded with a smile which turned into a giggle.

"Outshine Cersei? How could I?" Margery asked jokingly, with an overdone false expression of shock, lessened through her grin from ear to ear.

"Be careful." Sansa playing the charade with her wiggled with her right hand. "You just have to drink too much wine, neglecting your children, being a 'Bitch', your word not mine, and lose your brain. Not so much right?" Margery started to laugh, stabilizing herself at the saddle, Sansa joined in it and when she looked up after a while she saw Brienne glancing at them bewildered.

The ride was quieter after that, Sansa and Margery talked a bit about politics, but nothing hardly earth-shattering. Ser Jaime's return was scheduled in two weeks and the war against the Iron Born was nearly over. Margery told her that her brother Willas took over the command of the troops seizing the Shields. Sansa was surprised that her crippled almost fiancé was able to do so, but well. Sansa wasn't even sure any more if the Tyrell proposal had been serious or just a piece of meat in front of her nose so she would tell the truth about Joffrey's real character. At some points she even suspected that they originally had intended to blame her for Joffrey's dead, but even if that was true, Sansa had resigned herself to the notion that this all was Olenna Tyrell's doing, not Margery's. The idea was better than the notion her friend could once have planned to use her this way. Either way she didn't felt a slightest regret or uneasy feeling when Margery told her of her brother's engagement with one of Lord Hightower's daughters. Despite all that she politely turned down the invitation to the wedding, this wouldn't be appropriate or not awkward at all. Margery and Tommen would go, after the war is over, and at the current state it would be over soon. The Iron Islands were practically conquered, only a few castles put up resistance and the Shields would maybe hold a month not much longer. After finishing the politics for the rest of the day they came to lighter conversations and eventually to Tommen.

"I promised Tommen to go with him in the Godswood later; do you want to accompany us?" Sansa asked her friend, gazing at the frame of Rosby in the distance. After they followed the Blackwater they had turned north and followed the city-walls, heading for the Kingsroad.

"I can't, it would be nice, but my cousins and I should spend some time together too." Margery answered, gazing at her Sansa saw she was in thoughts again. At her questioning gaze Margery answered: "They didn't deal so good whit what happened, I am afraid for Alla it was too hard." Sansa wanted to say something, seeing Margery's eyes looking like tears would appear quick. "It is my fault."

"It is not." Sansa said determinate, voice strong and clear. "The Faith takes the blame not you, Cersei most likely too. Never you."

"If I wouldn't have wanted to be Queen so much they wouldn't have ended up..."

"Stop!" Sansa interrupted her near tears friend with a gesture startling her out of her misery. "I won't hear anything about that any more. I say you are not responsible and that's that!" Sansa didn't tolerate any protest in this matter, Margery wasn't to blame. "Sad that you can't come with us, or maybe you just bring them with you." Sansa cheerfully caught up on the original matter. "I think Tommen's presence is somehow healing for such scars. Maybe because he is so ..."

"Docile?" Margery suggested, smiling again, causing Sansa to smile at the thought of 'King Tommen the docile'. "I will see." She promised.

"If we are talking about Tommen right now, what did you whisper in his ear yesterday?" Sansa asked the question she wanted to ask for some time. She hadn't been able to hear what Margery whispered but she wanted to know, let alone because Tommen immediately gave in after her words, like she hexed him.

"This is something between me and my husband." Margery schooled her, smiling mischievous. "Pillow-talk if you want."

"Pillow-talk you say, I wonder what that might be." Sansa said teasing, grinning at her friend. "Kittens?"

"You would wonder when you knew." Margery grinned back to her. Laughing Sansa straightened up in the saddle and dropped the subject. Feeling her stomach rumble Sansa grasped in the saddlebag and fetched in serviettes wrapped lemon-cakes. After carefully unwrapping them Sansa offered one to Margery who eyed her grinning.

"What? Is there something in my face?" Sansa asked bewildered by her friends gaze, Margery grinned wider and took the offered cake; she slowly started nibbling at it, gazing in the wide. Sansa wasn't satisfied with this reaction at all; exhaling a caught she demanded Margery's attention back.

"What?" She asked in false surprise, smiling conspiratorial.

"You wanted to say something?" Sansa had the distinctive feeling something was wrong, Margery noticed something but didn't want to tell, gazing at her disapproving she tried to make her talk, with Tyrion this always worked, so why not with her?

"I just observed you eat a lot lately." Margery told her nonchalant, not interrupting her smile.

"I think it is the stress." Sansa replied quick, blushing slightly. Margery was right, thinking about it Sansa noticed she really had ate a lot in the last days, unconsciously but yes, a lot and she was always hungry.

"Yes, the stress. You must be right." Sansa could hear that Margery didn't spoke her true suspicion but Sansa had no idea what she really could mean and so she hoped she would let it fall, maybe she had to look out how much she ate. "When the political situation came to rest all will be normal again." Margery assured her, gazing in the wide again. "But I think in the long term we have to..."

"Please stop, no more politic, yes. Sansa begged, not wanting to continue on this way, she had enough for the moment. "You promised some Lady-talk, not a political discussion."

-##-

The sun was still high at the sky when they entered the city through the Iron Gate. Brienne was a bit tense, she objected that this wouldn't be the best way, because they had to ride through Flea Bottom in order to reach the Red Keep, but neither Sansa or Margery had been willing to shorten their ride to enter one of the other gates, they almost circled the entire city by their little trip. But giving in into Brienne's continuing objections they allowed her to end a men to the Eastern Barrack of the City Watch for more men, now the Gold cloaks cleared the way for her and Margery.

Flea Bottom was really a mess, the buildings nearly fell apart and the condition under which the poor people had to life were gruesome. Margery pressed a handkerchief on her mouth and nose because of the smell. It was hot in the streets, the heat from the hearths stirred the street up and Sansa felt she had too much clothes for the environment, her cheeks were red and she felt sweat at her forehead. In order to get some fresh air she removed hood and cap, letting her auburn waves fell free over her back, Margery, seemingly having the same problems followed her example.

"The people stare." Margery noted, looking around. Sansa followed her glance and she was right, the people stood at the side of the road, held back by the spears of the City Watch, starring wide eyed at them. It made Sansa uncomfortable; she tightened her grip on the rein, hearing her leather gloves squeaking. But they were well-guarded, Brienne took the lead and their mounted men surrounded them, again surrounded by at least one hundred men of the City Watch, enough to keep them safe, so Sansa tried to be optimistic.

"They are just excited to see their Queen. Nothing more." Assuring Margery with words she didn't really believe, Sansa freed her gaze from the crowd and gazed over the roofs to the keep.

"They stare at our jewels and horses, especially at your rubies in your hair." Margery, riding nearer to her and leaning towards her whispered to her. "They never saw such wealth."

"I know." Sansa knew she was right, the most subjects of Tommen never saw a gold-dragon in their life and she was sure her hairnet alone equalled at least a thousand or more, and it caught the light, reflecting the winter sun the stones shimmered like fire.

After a while they turned left to reach the keep and Sansa saw a little group of children at a fountain, the oldest maybe ten, they were dirty and looked starved. Sansa felt sorry for them, grasping in her saddlebag she fetched a Gold-dragon and called for the children's attention. She flipped the dragon in the hands of one of them, receiving unbelieving stares. Smiling she turned her head forward and then she saw him. A tall man with a deep red robe and something that looked like a role of parchment attached to his bag ran towards her, waving with his arm, screaming for attention. He didn't look like a beggar, his robe was dirty, but more like he travelled with it and Sansa noticed a golden cloth band worked into the collar. The Gold cloaks stopped him, holding him back when he looked fanatically towards her.

"Wait." Sansa stopped one of the Gold cloaks who wanted to punch the man in the stomach; the man was young, maybe twenty. Sansa stopped her horse, gazing quick to Margery to ask for a moment and then lead her mare carefully to the man. Getting her attention he ceased his struggle against the guards and straightened up before bowing his head after removing his hood. He had short black hair and amber eyes, together with a skin colour Sansa never saw before. Brienne was already at her side when she reached him, hand at the hilt of her sword, she eyed him. "Who are you?"

"Zuquid, honourable." The man replied with an accent Sansa never heard. "I am from Asshai to speak with the large shadow."

-##-

First Sansa hadn't been sure what to think of the man. She hadn't even known why she had been interested in the first place but something had dragged her towards the foreigner who was apparently a priest of R'hllor the red god Stannis worshipped. Brienne and Margery had objected but Sansa hadn't heard on them she had decided to take him with them to the Red Keep, letting him tell his story. In hindsight she didn't know what lead to this decision, a feeling inside her? Maybe, even if she was worried about it. Her insight into human nature once had led her to trust Cersei or Joffrey or Dontos, but this time it was different even if she couldn't tell why. Giving him a horse she had let him ride beside her and Margery. He told them the Messrs of Asshai had sent him, based off a vision, to Westeros to fight the threat of the 'Great Other', for Sansa it sounded like one of Old Nan's stories to scare her and her siblings. But on the other hand he sounded so serious and there had been reports from the Wall about walking dead. She had decided to see Zuquid as an envoy of Asshai; he had after all a testimonial from something called 'the council of the fire'. He had told her he had the 'true history' of the war with the 'Great Other' with them and brought the key to victory. Margery's gave a doubtfully snort towards this statement but couldn't find disapproval within Sansa, this all sounded really stupid. She actually had considered withdrawing her invitation when he had started to talk about the red priest of Stannis and how wrong she was and that it wasn't Stannis place at the Wall. This made her keen-eared; maybe the priest could be used against Stannis, maybe used to end the war with less blood. But first they had to hear his story, all of it.

Arriving at the keep Sansa separated from Margery, reminding her of her welcome in the Godswood later and ordered a servant to provide a chamber and a meal for her guest until she spoke with Tyrion about the matter. But she couldn't find him, he wasn't in their chambers and so she had the servants search for him. I took some time until a breathless servant came to her, waiting in her chambers and informed her he would be in the library. Schooling herself for not having the idea for searching him there she left for the library.

The first thing she noticed was the presence of the Kingsguard in front of the doors to the library together with Tyrion's own guard.

"My husband?" She asked one of them bowing her head slightly when the guard nodded towards the door, adjusting her gown she carefully opened the door, slowly not to make too much noise. Closing the door behind her she gazed around in the large, musty room and found Tyrion sitting on a chair at one of the tables, Tommen at his side and a book in front of them. Both were reading, considering the pile of books around them and the used parchment they had been doing this for a long time. Stepping closer she found Pod at the side of a book shelf, gazing into space.

Sansa didn't want to disturb the scene, it looked really nice, for her it seemed Tyrion decided to take over Tommen's lesson, an uncommon solution for the King's problems with his teacher but well.

"I really hate to interrupt but I need you." Sansa stepped to the table, startling both out of their learning, and then a loud noise came from the place she had spotted Pod. Gazing towards him, she saw him wildly trying to prevent books from falling down, she startled him too, causing him to nearly knocking over the book shelf he stood at, giving him a sensible smile after he ceased Sansa tried not to laugh at this sight. Turning back to Tyrion he looked up to her, his face forming a smile.

"You are back." He assessed, before jumping to his feet and circling the table, Tommen wanted to do the same but Tyrion gestured him not to. "Ah ah ah, first the chapter then a hello." He told him sternly, waving his hand, Tommen quickly gazed to Sansa, she could only smile and nodded to him to finish quickly, where at he fixed his glance at the sides again.

"You are a surprisingly stern teacher." She lowered herself down on Tyrion's level to kiss him, hugging him carefully.

"Apparently one of my many talents." He whispered in her ear after pulling her hair back from it, kissing the skin beneath.

"I need to talk to you." She whispered back, not letting him stop, suppressing a moan. "Alone." He pulled back and looked at her questioning before his smile turned into a grin Sansa knew all too well. "Not that, it is for the realm." Looking disappointed he gave her an understanding nod and walked back to Tommen.

"Your Grace it seems you have to finish your assignment elsewhere, I must talk with your aunt." Tommen looked up bewildered; he clearly didn't understood what just happened.

"You will see us later in the Godswood." Sansa assured him when his glance fell on her, triggering a smile and a quick nod before he took the book and let Tyrion escort him to the door. In the meantime Sansa let her gaze wander over the books on the table, some of them she already read, other were new for her, for example a tract about the House Baratheon she never saw. Tyrion seemed to take a very wide-ranging approach to educate Tommen. Then her glance fell on the vial, a small frame between two piles of books and described parchment. She took it in her hand and turned it left and right, a small drop of white fluid on the bottom told her what was in it, milk of the poppy, but she was sure this wasn't the same vial from this morning. She gazed to Pod questioning, rocking the vial in her hand towards him. His nod and the shameful averting of his eyes told her Tyrion drank it, exhaling her breath her eyes fell on the empty vial again, she felt a knot in her stomach, she was only away maybe three hours and in this time he emptied an entire bottle, this wasn't good at all, even if he was in so much pain.

Sansa heard him stepping towards the table again and she quickly hid the vial in her sleeve, wanting to talk to him about it later. Surprisingly unaffected by his shoulder he took a seat at the table, waiting for her to do the same, he reached out and edged a pile of books out of the way, leaning over the table as if nothing had been.

"What can I do for you Sansa?" She finally seated herself, leaning into the chair she searched for the right words to start.

"I had an interesting encounter in Flea Bottom today." She started, seeing worries flashing over his face when she mentioned this particular borough but continued before he could say anything. "I ran into a priest of Asshai, apparently some sort of envoy searching for somebody called 'large shadow'." Tyrion's mime incredulous that she could see that he wasn't sure what to think of her story.

"An envoy you say?" He leaned over the table, stabilizing himself to Sansa's shock with his right arm.

"He has a testimonial from their government." She tried not to let him know how uncomfortable she was seeing him without traces of pain he should have. Not that she wished him pain but this degree of pain freedom couldn't be natural. "He said he is here to aid us in a war at the Wall against the Others." Knowing how ridiculous she sounded and seeing Tyrion's expression she quickly added. "I know how it's sound but he also implied he could help us with Stannis."

"Then bring him in. Pod."

-##-

They all sat in the library, Zuquid looked better, he had used the time to change in a pompous deep red robe with golden flames embroidered on it and he now wore a red head formed like a flame as well a golden chain with a big ruby around his neck. After entering the room Pod had guided him towards one of the more comfortable chairs near one of the fireplaces, Tyrion and Sansa had already took seats opposite to him. Even if she was current Regent, Tyrion's condition allowed him to take the lead in this episode, she never meet a foreign envoy and the last she wanted was to screw up, besides in any time soon he would be Regent again and if this priest would stay longer he wouldn't have to readjust himself or be confused by the change. If he would tell them his 'true history' Tyrion's aid would be priceless let alone his knowledge outmatches her on this field.

"May we can offer you a refreshment?" Sansa asked him while Tyrion read the testimonial Zuquid had delivered to them. "Maybe some wine?"

"Thank you honourable, but I must refuse, I am on a holy mission and been only allowed to drink eh." He looked bit puzzled like he would search for a word. "'Tea', honourable, that is hot water with special herbs." Sansa never heard of 'tea', the idea of somebody drinking hot water was really odd for her, leaning slightly back, not changing her formal seating position she folded her hands in her lap and smiled at the man, who looked totally out of place. The fire priest apparently never was in the Seven Kingdoms; he stared around, calling every noble he saw 'honourable' and struggled with the common tongue. Tyrion wasn't finished yet so she decided to make a bit small-talk.

"May I ask you how your journey was?" Sansa asked friendly gesturing in his direction. The man laid his hands together and smiled back puzzling.

"I am not sure, may you?" He asked back sounding confuse, letting Sansa dropping her mouth open.

"Could you explain why not?"

"In some cultures, we study all known in Asshai; women are not permitted to ask another man anything in the presence of a superior male. I am not sure if this is accurate for your culture." He explained uncomfortable. Tyrion's roaring laughter thudded back from the walls the moment the young man finished his sentences, which dumbfounded Sansa. She needed a minute to compose herself and not to join Tyrion in his conniption. Zuquid looked even more puzzled now, and Sansa pitied him because he blushed and averted his eyes shamefully, he most likely thought he said something wrong. Quickly laying her hand on Tyrion's, who nearly dropped the testimonial, hoping to cease his laughter, she gazed to the priest.

"Apologizes, but this doesn't match out culture, here a woman can ask question in the presence of males." Sansa assured him, gripping tight on Tyrion's hand so he finally stopped, smiling uneasy at the priest.

"Then why do you ask if you may ask a question? And why is it so funny to your companion?" He asked curious, clearly not understanding the situation, maybe a language barrier.

"It was a phrase of civility." Sansa explained to the man who listened attentive. "And my dear husband, that I assure you doesn't, laugh about you only about the situation." Tyrion still didn't found his composer back, grinning uncontrolled, Sansa tightened her grip again and when he finally exhaled a small whimper she let lose. She was certain he didn't laugh about the situation, more likely about the word 'superior', she knew he never saw himself as a superior male towards her and to be characterised as such must have been very funny in his eyes. The priest, still looking bewildered was apparently satisfied with her explanation and after she was sure Tyrion wouldn't start to laugh again she exhaled a "huh" and folded her hands in her lap again, smiling at the pries. "So how was your journey?"

"Long, honourable. I travelled by ship but this still took nearly seven month." He answered courtesies bowing his head slightly. An answer, yes, but not very meaningful.

"My Lady, here in Westeros we say 'my Lord' to male nobles and 'my Lady' to female." She corrected him, trying to help and getting sick of the honourable. "This is perhaps easier than honourable. By the way how should we address you?"

"There is no title for me; I am just a humble servant of the great god." He explained her, opening his hands to his heart. "And pardon if I offend you with the title I named you. In Asshai all who not follow the faith of the fire, who also are not our brothers and sisters, are honourable fellow men."

"You didn't offend us, be sure of that." Sansa quickly assured him, it was much harder to talk to this man than she thought. But luckily the noise of parchment at her side told her that Tyrion had finished the testimonial.

"So you are a priest of R'hllor." He asked rhetorical and to rude for Sansa's taste, gazing disapproving at him he slightly nodded in understandable before continuing softer. "We already heard of you Thoros of Myr or the woman at Stannis side, am I right?"

"Pardon houn … my Lord but no, I am not one of these." He answered determined. "They are converts of temples who aren't in Asshai, only the one in Asshai can qualify true priest of R'hllor. The one you heard of are laity, at best, false prophets in the worst case. They can't speak for the god and don't know anything about the mysteries of our faith. I am sent here to stand against them to show the truth of the red god and to fight for the true message of R'hllor."

"So you are here to proselytise?" Tyrion asked suspicious, leaning forward to him.

"No my Lord, even if the false prophets do so, even force other to join the worshipper or die, the true worshipper don't proselytise. If a person wants to join our faith he is welcome but he has to come to us. We respect all religions, not fighting them, this isn't our way. Violating the religion or faith of another is a sin in the eyes of R'hllor and the work of the Great Other."

'We need more of such religions' Sansa silently thought to herself, the Faith in mind. She stayed out of the conversation, just wanted to hear what he had to say and observing Tyrion's tense face.

"You say you are here to fight? What does this mean, to kill?" His suspicion was clear. "My sources once told me Stannis's red woman wanted to burn King Robert's bastard to wake dragons." Sansa knew on what he played, he wanted to understand the priest. She knew the story he told as well, she was always shocked to hear her, how could a man claiming to be just even consider burning a child, like the mad King.

"I would never." Zuquid sounded as shocked as possible, bringing a satisfied smile on her and Tyrion's face, because shock couldn't be played perfectly, so he was most likely sinister. "R'hllor strictly forbid to kill, we don't sacrifice people or use blood magic. We are allowed to kill to defend our self out of an imminent deadly situation or to save a life but never for other purposes."

"Good, then we can begin." Tyrion exhaled leaning back in his chair but Sansa had to ask something else before they could start.

"Did you know who I was when you came to me in the street?" This question hadn't occurred to her until she was back at the keep and it interested her.

"No, My Lady."

"Then why did you come straight towards me?" She asked curious, she could see Tyrion leaning forward too.

"My master said I should search for a child of the old blood which would lead me to the large shadow who would show me the right way." He explained only puzzling her more. "And when I saw your hair in flames, flames of Rubies, the stones of the god I knew this was a sign of R'hllor. You were who I searched for."

"Old blood, large shadow. I am afraid you have to explain that further." Tyrion, replied for her, she had the exact thoughts.

"Maybe I should start at the beginning." He fetched his role of parchment. "This is the 'scroll of R'hllor'. Here is written all what my order know from the begin of the world and of the battles of the old days, of ice and fire, and all you must know to understand the future in there only ice and fir will last if we don't stop it."

"Please tell us." Sansa gestured him, she wanted to be polite, letting him have his speech before discussing the matter of Stannis.

"We believe there are two Gods, R'hllor and his great enemy, the Great Other." A religious lesson wasn't what Sansa expected but good, she laid her hand on Tyrion's arm to prevent him from sighting or interrupting him, if there was the slighted chance this man could help against Stannis they had to take it. "The Great Other always tries to end the existence of humanity to establish his own rule, first he tried near Asshai, which is how the Shadow was created. But later he tried again, here on this continent; you call this event the long night."

"Very fascinating, indeed." Tyrion replied unbelieving. "But please come to the point with Stannis."

"Please, this is important." The priest defended his faith. "His dead slaves will..."

"You want us to believe in magic, Grumpkins and Snarks." Tyrion's interrupt was dry and snarky, he wasn't really nice, even if Sansa agreed with him on the supernatural part, but he could have been nicer. So she tugged his arm, gazing to him sternly.

"Then see." The priest replied to them and performed a gesture with his hands. Suddenly the ruby on his chain flashed bright red and the fireplace started roaring. Startled Sansa nearly jumped out of her seat when a line of flames erupted from the fire and formed a ball of fire hovering in the air between Zuquib's hands. He smiled slightly before all nebulised into sparks. "The power of my god is real. So is the menace in the North." Sansa was still pressed in her chair, starring wide eyed at the man in the red robes, she felt like she would lose the control over her bladder, but luckily she didn't, gazing shaking to her right Tyrion didn't look any better, he was shaking as well. This certainly wasn't a trick, slowly she glanced at the man, noticing how Pod stood behind him, his sword at the priest throat. The man was calm, as if he wouldn't notice the blade at his neck. Sansa gestured with a weak smile the boy should put down the weapon and straighten up as much as she could.

"We believe you." She told Zuquid with a weak voice, something in her told her he was right she believed in the others, in the menace and it forced her to do everything she could to prevent it and she sensed Tyrion felt the same. "Tell us the story, all of it."

"I am sure you know the soldiers of the Great Other nearly conquered this part of the world, until they were stroke back by men of the old blood, you call them First Men. Azor Ahai, a hero of Asshai fought at their side, but not as leader as a sworn sword of their King. Later when the night was defeated named King received his sword from him as his own. Lightbringer became the sword of his House and he built the Wall with the help of the Old, the allies of R'hllor, you call them the Children of the Forest."

"You talk of Brandon the Builder." Sansa interjected, recognizing the story of her ancestor.

"Yes, the Wall is made out of stone ice and salt, the dead can't cross salt on their own effort so we are safe as long as nobody brings them over it. I am here because they come again and it is time to strike them back. This Stannis believe he is Azor Ahai and he think this would mean he has the obligation to lead the fight. He is wrong, his madly imagination endanger everything. I must bring Lightbringer to Azor Ahai so he can resurrect the sword's powers and the descendant of the old King has to lead the last battle. But if Stannis think he has to lead he could kill the foretold leader and destroy everything" Sansa was sure he spoke of Robb, why not, he was the descendant, he had to lead, or did he meant one of her other brothers?

"And you know where to find the sword?" Tyrion asked curious.

"The House-sword of the descendants of the old King."

"My family's house-sword is a valyrian blade." Sansa objected, feeling cold in her guts, what if they lost the sword.

"The blade is valyrian, but the steal is of Lightbringer, one of your ancestors brought it to Valyria and had it reforged with dragon fire to what it is now. I must meet the master of the sword soon."

"My brother, I will send him a raven and you can use a ship to get to White Harbour."

"Best will be when I head out immediately." He rose and Sansa gave him a nod, gesturing Pod to bring him out, giving him a purse and to ask her uncle for a testimonial for the priest. Zuquid bowed and left.

"He withholds more than he told us." Tyrion remarked after the priest left, hitting exactly Sansa's thoughts. She turned in her chair to face him.

"I know."

Perestan

"Did your moonblood fail to come" Perestan asked the young Lady of Casterly Rock. She sat opposite to him on a chair in the solar of her husband. Perestan just examined Lord Tyrion, changed his bandages and now had to see what was with his wife. Who was he, a healer? He always assumed these matters of the body were beneath him, but now he had to do this too and even worse for this impudent child, calling herself Regent.

"I am not sure." She replied to him, annoying him, how could she not know, but at least it gave him a clue and now he most certainly knew what was wrong with her.

"You are with child." He said straight forward, adding a 'Stupid' in his mind, how could she not notice. He observed bored how she tried to control her lips so they wouldn't form a bright smile on her face and it even annoyed him further. 'Women' Perestan saw himself as lucky Maesters didn't engage in such abysses.

"Are you sure?" She asked him low, leaning towards him with these big blue eyes.

"Yes." He replied dryly, trying not to lose his composure, how could she believe he could be wrong? Suddenly she stood up muttering a thanks she hurried out of the room, most likely not wanting to lose her composure around him. Despising the entire situation he started his way to his chambers.

'Stupid, girl stupid city.' Perestan really hated it to be in King's Landing, nobody wanted to appreciate his wisdom or council at all, they were all fools not understanding how much luck they had with him, and this imp, 'involve him, using his help.' what stupid ideas, and now he had also lost the opportunity to influence the young King, his mission didn't work as prospected.

All this thoughts flew through his head during his walk over the yard, he held his robe tight around him against the cold of the evening, he had problems to see because of the dark and the snow annoyed him further, then the bells startled him. Suddenly the yard was filled with armoured men running towards the gates, torches were lit and servants ran toward the keep. Puzzled Perestan demanded the attention of a guard passing him.

"What is wrong?"

"The Sparrows besiege the keep, we are trapped."

* * *

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	34. Chapter 34

**Sorry sorry sorry but here is the final version of the chapter**

**Hope you enjoy it**

**Don't forget to thank my beta**

**I own nothing, surprise!**

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Damion

The wind bit through the old trees of the forest, Damion felt his legs slowly going numb from the cold. The battle at Castle Black had ended like he had feared; Stannis and his Wildlings had been able to strike their vanguard back and had applied so much pressure on their lines afterwards that they had to retread. Maybe he should consider himself luck that the young Wolf had had enough sense to command the ordered retreat rather than sacrificing more and more men in senseless attacks. They had been able to save the major part of the original host, but now they marched through the snow-covered lads of Brandon's Gift to Last Hearth. The battle had looked very promising at the actual start, the Nightwatch hadn't fought on Stannis's side and the Wildlings had been reluctant at first, but then Stannis had wiggled his glaring sword and they rushed forward, like they wouldn't have known any fear. Hadn't there been Stannis's gesture the Wildling could have been hurdled.

A sudden rocking startled Damion out of his dark thoughts about how it could have ended, his horse reared up and fell neighing into the snow. In the last moment he was capable of rescuing himself from being buried under it by jumping from the saddle, but he landed head over heels in the deep snow. It was cold, he was cold, all his body parts should scream in pain but there was nothing than a slightly ach. Lying on the ground he had not enough power to get up or even motivation to, so he just looked around.

The men might escape battle, but they won't escape the cold, leaning at the trees the men from the south froze to death or were already in the next world, the survivors took the coats of the dead just to be a little bit warmer, but he feared this won't help them long. The Northerners tried to aid their unasked allies where they could but it wasn't enough.

Hearing the scrunch of the snow besides him he turned on his back, holding the hand in front of his face against the light of the cold northern sun. A hand had been reached out to him, using all his strength he took it and with a forceful jolt he was on his feet again. Damion's body screamed by this forceful movement, his stomach turned and if he wouldn't fear it would freeze in his throat he would have vomited. With his dizzy head Damion looked up to his unknown supporter, a giant of a man with a big beard, wrapped in thick layers of fur and steal.

"If you stop moving, you will die and this would take the pleasure from me to kill you myself, Lannister." Lord Umber's loud voice dinned in Damion's head. Still shaking on his legs he tried to stand alone but failed and had to stabilize himself at the arm of the Northerner.

"Thank you." He muttered his lukewarm breath creating white clouds, he couldn't think straight, like he had drank too much. "My horse, it is..."

"Dead, frozen. My died back there." He gestured with his right hand, the one with only three fingers, in the woods. "We must keep going, Queenscrown isn't far away." With these words he brought one of his arms under Damion's shoulder and helped him moving through the deep snow. "You know, for a Lannister you are a bloody good fighter."

-##-

They slid over the ice around the tower with the golden crown, on this way they arrived, without falling down, at the chamber where the young Wolf was holding his war council.

"The men are too weak to fight; we can call us lucky if half of them make it to Last Hearth."

"Stannis won't follow us, his precious war against bed-time monsters are to important for him."

"He doesn't have to follow us, the carts with the food supplies are stalled in the snow, if we can't get them here before it is too late, a small Wildling band could cut us off from our food supplies."

Damion couldn't identify the voices in the room, he barely made it up the stairs, without the Great Jon he would have fallen on the floor and wouldn't have been able to seat himself with the rest of his dignity. The coal pans in the room were lit and he was lucky to find a chair beside one. Only with half an ear he listened to the discussion above him, Tarly screamed something at a northern Lord, not using any decent vocabulary, the Lord of Horn Hill had a bandaged head and he was less an eye. The other men in the room didn't look better, they missed eyes, ears and one of them even a hand. The She-Bear, Dacey, sat beside him in a chair, the blood in her hair froze to icicles. The young Wolf sat silent on the other side of the room, his beast of wolf at his feet.

"We call for all men we can get and attack again." An unknown spoke.

"Not as long as Stannis lives. He is the focal point of them, only without him we can win"

It started again but Damion lost his focus when an orderly came to him, examining his face.

"Sorry but the right half of your face is frozen, the skin will die." He whispered in his direction, a competent look on his face. "I am not sure if you will survive." Damion leaned back in the old chair, resigning.

'Thank you cousin.' He thought to himself, angrier at himself for letting something like this happen.

"Go on." He gestured the man in front of him, thinking maybe it would be best, the hells are suppose to be hot, at least that was what he remembered.

"Hey, I saw men with more serious wounds survive." The woman with the denticulate hair at his side encouraging him with a weak smile, she must have heard what the healer said.

"How is this, when I survive this you come with me to Dorne and we bath in the hot sun." He suggesting with a weak grin to the attractive warrior woman at his side.

"I thought you are married?" She replied, mustering him in a mixture of bewildered and precariousness.

"Oh, she will be there too, of course." He grinned at her dumbfounded expression, Northerner, just too easy.

"I made a decision." Lord Stark demanded the attention of the room, interrupting Damion's banter with the Mormont. "I will send a request to the Nightwatch, in secret of course and ask for help. It pains me to ask them to break their vows but it has to be done. Then we can attack, ending this war."

Tyrion

Tyrion drained the vial with the milk of the poppy at a draught, welcoming the warmth spreading in his guts and the disappearing of the pain. Satisfied he placed the empty vial at the bedside table, behind a pile of books, so Sansa wouldn't find it so quick; she worried too much about him already. He made himself comfortable in the pillows musing that all in all it had been a good day, even with Cersei and this priest.

This red priest, Zuquid, gave him the creeps, he hadn't understood half of what he had babbled, but after his little trick with the fire he believed it utterly. In hindsight it made him very wary, he didn't believe in magic, or at least he hadn't had in the last years, but he had again when the young man asked for help, explained them a confusing story about monsters and wars of gods and Tyrion was eager to help him, something in him even forced him. The particular feeling left with the priest only a tiny hind remained a doubt that all of this hadn't been a lie. Sansa had told him she felt the same and this gave him the suspicion that something was really wrong. However he couldn't do anything about it anymore, the red man was already on a ship heading north, by a lucky coincidence he had caught a ship moments before they had planned to be off to the sea.

In the best case there was really an invasion of the undead coming and the priest was able to stop it, in the worst case he lost a purse with gold and a testimonial that only was valid for Robb Stark on him. But on second thought maybe this wasn't the worst, maybe the worst thing was that he could have been right and the Others would win a war, yes this was really bad.

Grabbing for a book on his bedside table Tyrion started to browse for the chapter about the Long Night, the book about the entire Age of Heroes written by an unknown Archmaester covered all knowledge, no matter if rumour or found ruin or bedtime-story, about this particular time in history. His new bandage, Perestan just had applied, was still stiff which made it hard to turn over the pages and after a short while Tyrion resigned. He hadn't the motivation to search about Grumpkins and Snarks, or blue eyed monster, besides, even if the priest was right, he was in King's Landing too far away to influence the events in the North, the only thing he could do was wait and pray, or wait and hope that Sansa would pray for both of them.

His brother-in-law would find the right way to deal with the priest, if he believes him or discovers that he was just a fraud, it was his responsibility now and with luck he would succeed.

Throwing the book at the bedside table, nearly knocking over the vial he turned his attention to the door, Sansa wasn't back yet, although she was only a short time away, the mix of hope and worries in his guts were crushing him. What if she was really sick, what if his other suspicions were adequate? What would she feel? What would be if she would share his mother's faith, he couldn't bear to lose her. How could he survive to cause her death, like he did with his mother? He chided himself a fool because he never thought about such a possibility.

'Selfish dwarf' But then he thought about what would be if she wouldn't share his mother's faith, how could he raise a child? His aunt's words still resounded back in his head 'like your father', no, he wouldn't be like him, he would be different.

'You are a surprisingly stern teacher', Sansa's words, he never thought of himself as stern, but then he was when he tutored Tommen, first he tried to familiarize him with the joys of books but when he hadn't be very eager he turned into a very serious person.

'Like my father?' Once again, this wasn't good. 'But I have something my father never had.' he suddenly realized, 'I have Sansa'. Tyrion knew she would take care of him when he turned into a second Lord Tywin, she could rescue him from such a faith. Even if she had the skill to be stern and serious too, she was so good at heart it would only resolve out of worries, a trait he loved about her. It would be like she did in the Godswood.

The memories of the evening in the Godswood brought a smile on Tyrion's face and he leaned further back in his pillows, still without pain. He and Sansa had sat on a woollen blanked in the mid of fresh fires which illuminated the Godswood, observing Tommen playing with his kittens. It was so peaceful that Tyrion had the brief thought it could be a dream. Sansa cuddled at him, leaning at his left shoulder. Not far in the moment Margery and her cousins joined them, he groaned when Sansa rose to hug her friend. Luckily for him Tommen demanded from then on the attention of his wife and her cousins, occupying them with his kittens and snow-castles and he had Sansa again for himself. She showed her stern side when the hot stew was brought by the servants, Tommen hadn't wanted to interrupt his games but Sansa schooled him, wanting him to eat something warm so he wouldn't be sick tomorrow. Some shared stories of the girls, mixed with his witty comments later Tyrion excused Sansa and himself, he was a little relieved not to have to listen to the gossiping cousins of the Queen any longer. Sansa actually tried to wriggle herself out of her meeting with Perestan but he dragged her out.

During his examination she pelted the Archmaester with questions about the risks and side effects of milk of the poppy. For Tyrion it was clear she thought he would drink too much. Later she walked with Perestan in the other room for her examination, she could have done it here in the bedroom but Tyrion suspected she wanted to continue the interrogation of the Grand Maester about the milk of the poppy. He didn't understand her obviously worries about his consume, he was pain free, wasn't that the point?

The squeak of the door startled him out of his thoughts. Sansa, in all her beauty stepped in the room, illuminated by the light behind her. Tyrion sat up to see her better when she slowly approaches him. He could see her face against the bright light, how the corners of her mouth twitched in her attempt to hide her expression, or her scintillating eyes. Tyrion's heart felt much lighter than it was supposed to be, his heart started to race, expecting what could come, his ears were suddenly hot and he didn't notice that he holding his breath. Sansa however slowly fell forward on the bed, not bothering with her gown and she started to crawl up to him, her eyes were fixed on his when she straddled him, arms on both sides of him. Her face was inches away from his, he could feel the warm breath of her on his face, but he only starred into her blue eyes.

"I am with child" The hushed words after which her mouth formed the brightest smile flew through his head.

'I knew it' he winningly exhaled in his head. Suddenly all his fears, all his doubts were washed away, his breath loosened into a large sight. What should he say? What could he say? He was becoming a father. Thousand thoughts ran through his mind, things he didn't think of, worries and prospects of beyond the fears of a dwarf. Illnesses and wounds, war and backstabbing. How would a child of his grow up, as a Lannister, as a Stark, as a member of the royal family, a noble in Westeros. A whole new dimension of worries and fears.

Sansa still waited for a reaction of his when he was briefly able to overcome all his worries with the image of a little child playing in the glass-garden of Casterly Rock, running around his or hers mother. Time was irrelevant at this moment, Tyrion gingerly cupped Sansa's cheeks with both hands, not caring for his bandages or the mildly discomfort in the right side and kissed her long and deep.

"I take that as a manifestation of joy." Sansa replied slowly after they broke the kiss, she slowly and to his displeased of the parting, rose to sit up on his legs. He only vague felt her weight on his thighs when he looked up to her and saw her grin like a Cheshire cat.

"I don't know what to say." He told her truthfully, reaching his arms out for her.

"I suppose you already suspected it?" She ask him, grinning wider, he could see how happy she was, how could he ever think she maybe wouldn't? Turning his head left and right, trying not to grin too wide Tyrion let his arms fall back at the mattress before he brought his left hand to his face to scratch guilty his scar.

"Maybe I had a notion." He admitted to her not able to hold his sheepishly grin any longer.

"So and why are you speechless then?" Sansa prevented any answer with a giggle before laying herself next to him, cuddling at his side, her head on his shoulder. Tyrion briefly closed his eyes, enjoying her warmth at his side and her hair tickling his face. "I feel so stupid." She confessed to him in a low tone, when he looked down he saw her with closed eyes. "Margery noticed it too, she made a hint. I am the only one who didn't notice."

"You were busy, there is nothing to forgive." He whispered the truth in her hair, not amused by her thoughts.

"If you say so" she replied sleepy, cuddling her head at him.

"I am so excited." She confessed after a while in silence. Tyrion leaned his head on hers and just let her speak. "I will be a mother; I ever wanted to be one." A little tear escaped her eye. Seeing it Tyrion bought his hand back, cupping her cheek and removed it with his thumb before he slowly treading the way under her chin and carefully lifted her face up to meet his.

"You will be brilliant." Not leaving her eyes he kissed her again, meaning every word he said.

"You too." Tyrion wasn't so sure of that, which was why he let go of her chin and was grateful she slipped her head back at his shoulder so she couldn't see his doubting expression. "I must write mother, and Robb. Do you think they will be excited?"

"Of course they will another addition to their family, what could they don't like at that?" The question of her bewildered Tyrion.

"You know my mother might be civil to you but …" Sansa's voice was trembling, giving away her own fears about the situation; luckily Tyrion knew exactly how to free her from these.

"She will love it, believe me" He assured her starting to stroke her hair. "She will have her first grandchild, if your brother didn't beat us. Considering he is far away from his wife so I think we won." Hopefully lightening the mood of her he continued nonchalant. "Though she will still secretly despise the ugly imp who dragged you into his cave and planted his eggs in you." With that he was rewarded with a clear laughter.

"I didn't know imps lay eggs." She gave back trying to find her composure.

"Oh yes they do." He explained with a fake schooling tone. "As a matter of fact, imps are very active with planting eggs in bodies, especially in gorgeous one."

"Stop it." She playfully slapped his chest, trying to control her laugh. But then it ceased and she looked up with a grin. "You speak of eggs. Do you know something even the Maester doesn't know?" This question hit him unprepared, he just joked around but there was a chance that there would be twins.

"I was just referring to hopefully many siblings for this one." He assured her, pointing at her belly, hiding another fear of his, a male and a female twin playing dogs in their chambers.

"I like that too." Sansa laid her head back on his shoulder. " What should we name this one?" She placed her hands at her belly looking down at an imagined pregnant round.

"What ever you want. Maybe after your father." His mother picked the names for all her children, even for him in her last minutes, why shouldn't Sansa do the same?

"Eddard Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock, Warden of the West and Shield of Lannisport" She let the name of the future heir of the Westerlands melting in her mouth. For Tyrion it sounded, great but apparently Sansa had a different idea. "This doesn't sound right, he should be named as a Lannister not as a Stark, at least the first one." Dumbfounded by her sudden interjection Tyrion started to think.

"A Lannister name? What should it be? My father, the cold-hearted monster, or my grandfather the Lannister who nearly ruined our House and died by an exploding heart, maybe he had too much and my father to less." Tyrion didn't want to sound mocking but he did and regretted it immediate.

Sansa turned and rose on her hands to be face to face with him, looking withal questioning and stern before she exhaled a disapproving grunt.

"Are these the only two options you can think of?" She asked not sounding very pleased with him at the moment. It hurt him that he apparently hurt her and so he thought again.

"Maybe my uncle, Gerion." He suggested another name, seeing with relief how her gaze softened.

"I knew you had an option in mind." Triumphantly she tuned again to occupy her previous position at his shoulder. "Gerion Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock, Warden of the West and Shield of Lannisport. Sounds right."

"But then we name the next boy after your father." Tyrion whispered his insist in her hair, changing slightly in a more comfortable position, a pillow stuck in his back.

"Yes, yes this would be good." She replied back, sounding like she wanted to go to sleep. "And when we have a girl?"

"We will name her like you want; she will look like you anyway." He told her about his hope; he didn't want a child of him looking like the stunned Imp.

"You already decided how they will look?" Sansa asked grinning.

"Of course, if we are lucky the boys will look like Jaime and the girls like you, together with my mind."

"So you want them not to inherit the mind of the smartest of us?"

Tyrion wanted to tell her a witty reply when a knock at the door, stopped him. This couldn't be good; every time they had an intimate moment they had been interrupted with a tale of something horrible having happened.

-##-

"What have you done you foolish boy." Tyrion observed how a furious Tully collapsed his pale, shaking cousin into a pile of dust. Tyrion wasn't very eager to change places with the unfortunate fool who sat huddled up in his chair in the middle of the room.

They were all in the small audience-room of the King. He sat near the spare throne, at the head of the room, besides Sansa, his hand on hers. Even in his condition his presence was required. He had been right, something horrible had happened, his foolish cousin had managed to trigger another riot, but this time it seemed the masses wouldn't back up, no they aided the Faith by seizing the Keep. The High Septon had proclaimed a Kingdom of the Faith and promised everybody a new world under the Seven-Pointed Star.

Tyrion looked around, everybody was present, his sister, Lady Margery, the entire small council, even Tommen sat anxious on the throne near him, gazing through the room. Tyrion concentrated his attention at Sansa, who sat fraught beside him, holding tight at his hand, worries and fear in her eyes. Tyrion was extremely angry with the world right now, just a hour ago he had lying in bed with his wife happy about the new life in her and now she had been placed in a potential deadly danger again and had not only to worry about her own life but also about the child in her. Somebody would pay for this; he would bring misery and pain above the one who were responsible.

"I was just..." His cousin stammered under the murderous look of the Blackfish coiling like an eel.

"What?" Brynden Tully screamed at him "poking the side of a sleeping dragon? No this would be wiser!" The man was really scary when he was angry; he threw his hands up in rage and started to pace the room. "You had to provoke them, didn't you? How could you be so foolish? Is your brain out of mud?" Tyrion didn't pity his cousin, he deserved it, he actually expected more brain of him.

The room was silent as a crypt, gazing around again, Tyrion first spotted his sister, sitting stoic in her chair, face paler than usual, eyeing Tommen absently, maybe she thought back at their little conversation earlier. Lady Margery sat on the other side of Sansa, she was nervous and tense, her brother stood behind her, hands on her shoulders, a grim expression on his face. Bronn leaned at the wall near the door, armoured in a black plate armour with silver bindings, he looked actually amused about the situation a smirk on his face. Perestan stood at the other side of the room, alone at the window, face as always hidden behind his mask. Lord Swyft and the new Lord Maellius were in a corner, silent, Swyft most likely because he hadn't a clue what to do and Maellius because he did what he could best, observing and evaluating the situation. Prince Martel's behaviour was similar to Bronn's except for the fact that his eyes were deadly serious.

In the centre of the room the Blackfish had finished with Lucion and Tyrion was searching for wetness in his trousers or a little pond at his feet. No matter how calm the Brynden Tully appeared, he could be scarier than any monster in any story possible when he was angry.

"What now?" After a moment of silence, only interrupted by Lucion's occasional shaking, Swyft asked the question anybody had on their tongues.

"We are stuck, at the moment." Bronn spoke first, pushed himself of the wall and slowly walking towards the Blackfish. "Thanks to this genius of a knight we can't escape." He gestured to Lucion smirking in the round.

"We have supplies for at least four month, if they persevere for so long." The Blackfish took over sounding much more professional than the former Sellsword. "We only have to feed the one in the Keep, they have to feed the entire city and when our relief troops arrive."

"If, this relief troops come." Martel added for consideration.

"Why shouldn't they?" Garlan Tyrell asked, grim, not moving from his position.

"We have eight-thousand men on the Goldroad; they will arrive in within two weeks." Tyrion assured the prince smiling courteous. There was no time for a game of who can mock the best.

"Not enough, we have a city to seize." Martel gave back, spreading his arms.

"Mighty words for a man without battle-experience" The Hand of the King provoked the prince. Tyrion knew he was teasing, even if nobody knew what Oberyn Martel did in his life, and there were no official confirmation that he ever fought a battle, his reputation told other.

"You would be surprised boy," he snapped back, wanting to say more but was interrupted.

"Ser Jaime will be back soon, and there are more men on the way." The Blackfish assured the dornish before he and the man of the Reach could fight.

"Men of the Vale?" He asked doubting, rolling his eyes Tyrion wanted to shut him up at this moment, Sansa had tightened her grip by his words, they seemed to increasing her fear.

"Actually no, men of the Riverlands." Tully surprised all the present with his words and continued before questions could be asked. "I sent a request to Riverrun too; Lord Edmure will come with all men he can gather."

"Not very promising but good, I suppose we will take what we can." A snort from the dornish prince earned him a frown from the famous Tully who looked like he wanted to say something but then it was Sansa who spoke first.

"Maybe the riot will dissolve before something serious happen; the people must realize that they are doomed when they don't cease the hostilities eventually." With her comment she prevented an escalation of the argument between Blackfish and Viper, even if she didn't look very convinced about her words. "I know everything escalated and with that all hopes for a peaceful abatement of the conflict are lost. But maybe if we grant favourable conditions for the commoners and the minor supporter of the Faith we can prevent a battle." Her suggestion wasn't bad, after all Tyrion knew the only three options remained were, kill them all in a battle, the surrender of the Faith to them or the attack at the keep and their own end. The last possibility was unacceptable.

"I am not sure your mercy is the right way little dove." His sister demanded attention; she looked around without any expression. "We can't show such weakness, not after such an insult."

"We will be superior and they can't take the keep right? We still have all carts in our hand." Lady Margery aided her friend supporting her suggestion. But Tyrion did not come around to note that she was very tense, her hands shook, maybe all of her body had had if her brother wouldn't hold her.

"Unless they get siege engines somewhere we are safe." Ser Brynden assured all present, finally seating himself on the chair farthest away from the still shaking Lucion.

"You mean like the trebuchets at the Fishmonger's Square?" Maellius asked casual, dumbfounding Tyrion, he had been the one placing them there, but they should have been removed by now.

"Why aren't they removed yet?" He asked alarmed towards his sister who only gave him a cold glare before she averted her head in another direction, speechless about such stupidity, keeping mighty siege engines in a city with potential enemies for more than a year he frowned questioning towards Lord Swyft the only other he could hold responsible for it.

"We didn't think of that my Lord." He spoke quiet, averting his eyes in shame.

Sick of all the incompetence he discovered every day since he was back in the capital Tyrion leaned back in his chair exhaling a great amount of air. He closed his eyes, trying to think about the consequences all this could have, how it could affect his family, fear spreading in him, more than ever and to top it all his shoulder hurt again.

Lord Garlan engaged with the Blackfish and Bronn in a discussion how the trebuchets could be used against the keep and other possible threads for them. Tyrion didn't listen any more; his head was full with what ifs. What if he never had left Casterly Rock, let the realm be realm? There was a time he wanted the power he had now, the responsibilities he had now, but not anymore, he wanted that Sansa and their child was safe everything else appeared so futile. And what could he do? Even if he was at this meeting right now he was still wounded, strictly speaking not able to leave the bed, only a great amount of milk of the poppy let him be there and even if he wouldn't be wounded, he was the stunned dwarf of the Rock. During his first battle he nearly died and during his second he was so heavily wounded that he was unconscious for days. How could he defend his family, his wit was his only weapon and right now he was useless.

A hand at his cheek woke him out of the deeps of his self loan, slowly opening his eyes he saw Sansa gazing at him, looking concerned. He had to be strong, all this thoughts of what if wasn't helpful.

_Get your act together Imp_

Taking her hand at his cheek in his he nodded reassuring at her, new determination waved through him. Sitting up, ignoring the pain in his arm he shifted his attention back at the discussing knights in the room.

"What do you think, how strong is the support for the Faith in the city?" He asked the new Master of Whisperers, not caring to interrupt the other, earning himself frowns.

"My Lord?" Startled and bewildered by the question the man looked at him questioning, his mouth open slightly. The rest of the room became silent in anticipation.

"The support, how many of the citizens of the capitol support the Faith Militia, are we alone?" The attention of all was doubtless at him. "You are the Master of Whisperers; you are supposed to know this."

"There are not so much." He admitted thoughtfully, he scratched the back of his head, performing some gesture with his hand near his mouth before continuing. "Most of them are most likely just afraid and act indifferent, keeping a low profile. Of course we have some malcontent and the Faith Militia."

"Continue"

"The supply situation isn't as bad as it was during the time of the pretenders, so the people haven't any reason for a riot. Most of them don't care for the words of the Faith."

"So you think we could persuade them?" Tyrion asked, leaning forward on his chair, Sansa's grip around him tightened for a moment, signalling him she understood.

"For what my Lord?" The skinny man apparently wasn't sure what he wanted. 'Fine new Master' Tyrion thought sarcastically, for a brief moment he wished Varys back, the eunuch would have understood.

"I am sure you have your agents in the city." Tyrion explained to him nonchalant, leaning in his chair again, taking a position suitable for a nice dinner conversation. "Let them spread the rumour that everybody who will be able to disable the siege engines can expect a generous reward and protection when the Faith falls." Bronn leaned forward, wanting to interject but Tyrion silenced him before he could. "Everybody who aids such endeavours can expect same. If the people act against the Faith we might stand a chance."

"You want them to sabotage and hide in the huts of friends?" Surprisingly for Tyrion Prince Oberyn sounded more acknowledging than sarcastic.

"If the Faith terrorise the city they gain nothing." Sansa added, Tyrion looked to her, her face had gained more colour than before, and her tense wasn't as strong as before. Happy with that Tyrion felt a spark of hope. He might wasn't able to fight but he still had his mind. He had forgotten this fact for a brief moment.

"Without the siege engines we will hold the keep, but still we will be isolated, I doubt ravens will be able to fly un-shot over the city." Brynden Tully submitted to consideration, he looked more hopeful too.

On a hunch Tyrion turned his focus to his nephew, the little King looked misplaced on his throne, nervous and clearly insecure he gazed around in the room.

"All we discussed of course requires your Grace's permission." Tyrion spoke to him, smiling assuring.

"My...?" Tommen was unsure, playing with his hands.

"Will your Grace allow us to proceed?" Tyrion asked again, he wanted to build up Tommen's confidence as King, he had noticed a lack of it during the lecture with him. The boy looked around in the room, first at him, than at Sansa and then at Margery, searching for an answer but nobody gave him one, only assuring glances.

"I will." Tommen heavily nodded after a while in silence, an unconfident smile on his lips.

"Very good, I say the natural order of duties for the council-members depending on their individual experience give us a clear distribution of duties or have we to discuss who is in command before we proceed to action?" Tyrion wanted to close this meeting, he wasn't tired, he was too excited but his shoulder started to pain him immense and there were duties to handle if they wanted to survive.

"No?" He asked gazing around but didn't expect an answer. "Lord Tully will have the command with Lord Bronn as his lieutenant; you will report me or Lady Sansa." He summarised brief before a fight started between Bronn and the Blackfish. Tyrion gazed to Sansa with the unspoken question to go but then he heard a bleak laughter from his sister. Sighting he turned around again, gazing at her.

"You are trusting the people?" She asked spiteful, a glass of wine in her hand again.

"Do you want to negotiate with the Faith?" He asked in her grinning face, taking a playful tone. "Maybe you can talk with Lancel, I am sure you can 'seduce' him to end all this." Satisfied that her grin was washed away. Tyrion slit from his seat and offered the arm of his uninjured shoulder to Sansa, she took it and he escorted her out, seeing with gratification that everybody started to attend their tasks.

Two month later

The snowstorm ceased for a moment and Tyrion was able to climb on the wall to look down at the square in front of the Red Keep. With satisfaction he marvelled the pile of burned wood in the distance on the Fishmonger's Square. Unknowns burned the trebuchets two days after the seize began, triggering cheerful shouting from the keep. Direct in front of the gates the Sparrows, Warrior's Sons and Poor Fellows shivered in the cold of the winter, crowded together around little fires. Letting his gaze wandered over the city he saw the camp of his own men behind the walls, hundreds of tents with red flags and in the middle a big white one.

Jaime had arrived a week ago together with his force from Dragonstone. The patience of his brother surprised Tyrion, he had expected Jaime would attack the moment he set foot on the shore but he waited, apparently the force of the Riverlands weren't too far away and he wanted to attack together. This all would be over soon.

After the meeting during the night all this madness had began everything had gone very quick. The Blackfish and Bronn secured the keep and had made sure that there were plans for any possible scenarios. He himself hadn't been able to contribute anything useful to this, he knew long sieges only out of books and so he had decided to keep his non exciting nose out of the affairs of the more experienced warriors. Of course he had had to pretend to do something, for him too, so he had retreated in his solar and had written letters, but only after he had brought Sansa to bed. His had been so tired by the events of the day that she had fallen asleep immediately after she closed her eyes. He had loved to stay with her but this hadn't been possible, not in such a situation, Lord Brynden's warning in his head, so he had wrote. Lord Brynden had been right; no ravens were able to leave the keep since two days in the siege. His letters had been able to left, but there were no replies, not a single raven in two month.

They tried their best to keep up a pretence that everything would be all right. Somehow it seemed to calm the residents of the keep to think there wasn't any siege. The people carried on with their normal everyday lives, feasts were celebrated, the small council held meetings even without much to do. After his wound had healed he had been in condition to take over the regency again, but not all of it. He had decided to share it with Sansa, let her participate at the ruling, she sat with him in the small council, together with Tommen and his wife, not only advising him, no, making her own decisions. Malicious gossip had it that they would try to be King and Queen; this was ridiculous of course, Sansa acted much more like a second Regent than a Queen.

But now with her advancing pregnancy she slowly retreated from the entirety of duties and gave of herself to their future child. Tyrion thought she was a bit rash, according to Perestan she was only in the fourteens week, so they had enough time left. But Sansa used her free time to spent time with Margery or/and Tommen, sowing or playing, in the evenings she worked with him, or worked on requests to the keep and helped him with the neglected petitions. Apparently Cersei didn't look over a single one in the entire year of her rule, that's why they were drowning in paper work. Maybe it was a blessing that they were under siege; otherwise they wouldn't have been able to catch up.

Tyrion believed Sansa's obsession with doing something, anything was because she wanted to distract herself from the still imminent danger. They might be safe for the moment but the day the Faith decided to attack everything could tip over the edge. The first days she had been worrying herself to nearly death, at least he had saw it this way. She paced the rooms, cried, holding her belly. She didn't worry for herself, no, for their child. The last time she had been in such danger she only had to worry for herself but now all her thoughts focussed on her baby. Tyrion had tried his best to calm her, he had stayed with her, had hold her, assuring everything would be all right. It worked, or at least it purported so. After a few days their routine with ruling, meetings and even with a daily Cyvasse game established.

He spent the rest of his time with the small council and with Tommen's education; he kept up the lectures with the King, seeing great progress in his knowledge but also in his behaviour as King.

The Faith had sent an envoy at the seventh day of the siege demanding the surrender of the keep, the commitment of the education of Tommen to them and hostages. They also had demanded Margery's and Cersei's imprisonment and that he and Sansa left the City. The pious fools let them seven days for consultations, unfortunate for them was that after a few days the red banners of their reinforcements appeared at the horizon, they seized the City, trapping the Faith between Red Keep and the walls, a week later Jaime had arrived, he had cut the supplies for the city and had demanded the surrender of the Faith Militia, but as far as Maellius agents had said he still waited for an answer.

The residents of the keep hadn't been impressed at all, nearly like it was a mocking of the siege they had celebrated Sansa's Nameday days after the ultimatum of the Faith. The food might be rationed for the servants and soldiers but not for the nobles and so they celebrated with ten curses and banqueted extensive. Sansa wasn't very pleased with the arrangements, suggesting they shouldn't eat more than the commoners. Maybe she was right but, that had been why the council decided to reduce the food for the nobles as well, or better nobody had wanted to offend Sansa and Margery who suggested it.

During the celebration of her Nameday Sansa's pregnancy had been announced, from then on congratulations and toasts had ruled the evening like nothing happened outside at all. There had been promises of presents after everything would be over and the attention had laid on Sansa alone. Tommen seemed particular excited for his new cousin, asking Sansa about any detail. The Blackfish had offered him his hand in a quiet moment, and when he had taken it he had congratulated him friendly.

Tyrion wanted to turn around to go when he suddenly heard a high sizzle short after an arrow penetrated a timber near him. His heart beat increased and like in shock he didn't move until a guard pressed him down. Were they under attack? Wide eyed he glared at the slim shaft in the wood, but there weren't more, no screaming, no noise of an attacking force, nothing. He slowly pulled himself together and wiped the snow from his trousers. Tyrion slowly stepped to the crenellations and looked down, nothing at the appearance of the Faith Militia changed, as if they didn't even notice the arrow. Turning to it he noticed a small scroll bound to the shaft. Gesturing the guard who pressed him down he approached the arrow and took the scroll.

It had been written by one of Maellius agents, in a tiny writing, encrypted with a code Tyrion luckily knew, he demanded this knowledge under the thread he would throw him of the wall, from Maellius.

"Call for Lord Tully and Lord Bronn, they shall meet me in the throne-room." He ordered to the guard behind him after he finished encrypting.

The throne-room only had been used for feast since the siege begun so the servants decided to let the long tables at their places. Tyrion sat in the chair he normally occupied during such a feast and waited patient for Bronn and the Blackfish. He played with the piece of parchment in his hands, sunken in his thoughts when both warriors stepped in.

"My Lord." Ser Brynden greeted him sharp, nodding in his direction; Bronn just smirked and seated himself near him.

"My Lords, good news." He announced pretentious, gazing at both. "My brother sends us words that Lord Edmure is only a few hours away and will arrive in the early evening. Tomorrow they will attack the city." He saw the surprised faces of the present, understanding their hesitation about this news so he added. "Apparently he built siege engines out of sight, waiting for this day. Bronn I want you to make a sally to distract the Faith when he attacks, he wrote all necessary information down." He handed the former Sellsword the encrypted message.

"We only should pretend to make a sally." He commented, smirking. "Won't be hard."

"Somebody must protect the keep during this." Tyrion spoke to the Blackfish who seemed bewildered by his choices.

"So it may be."

"My Lords, tomorrow all this will be over." Tyrion announced and jumped from his seat, he wanted to see Sansa to tell her the good news.

The Huntsman

Nearly running into the wall Randyll Tarly quick got a grip and shifted his weight to the other side, he hadn't familiarised to his missing eye yet. This damned Wildling, he had led the vanguard on the right side when they appeared from behind a little hill and stormed at his surprised men, fighting through them to secure the right flank of the main host one of them killed his horse. On foot he killed at least four of them until one of this smelling savage took his eye with a cut of his sword. He was used to get wounded, not so bad but he knew pain and had been able to hold his stand so he could slice the bastard's belly open to offer his guts some fresh air. First he had thought the wound wouldn't be so bad, only blood over his eye, but it was worse. After they had retreated to the main line and he was in the safety of the main host he realized how bad it really was.

He climbed down the spiral staircase of the little tower trying not to fall or losing his dignity by walking like a cripple. They had spent the last three days here, waiting for all men to come back, before marching to Last Hearth, the young Wolf insisted to bring all his men into safety. Randyll had to agree to the plan; they would need all men they could get when they attacked again even if most of the missing one most likely won't come back. All in all he was positive surprised by the boy, he had known that he was a capable commander, a man other man could look up to, but now he even considered that he was better than himself.

His decision to retread instead of fighting a lost battle showed really good that he understood what he was doing, the way he dealt with the Boltons and the Karstarks also showed that he understood honour. Randyll didn't hold the marriage bound he broke with the Freys against him, this scum hadn't any kind of honour so why should anybody be honourable towards them?

Reaching the end of the stairs Randyll nodded to the guard to let him out, he wanted to muster his men, or at least the rest of them. The battle and the climate broke them, they weren't used to the ruff conditions up here and even he had problems to get use to it. The swords froze into the scabbard and the steal of the armour was so cold the skin stuck at it, 'Body-armour' one of his captains joked around, he didn't found that funny. His men starved, wasn't able to fight, but they were his men, his invincible soldiers, they would fight to the end. He wasn't so sure the Westermen would do the same.

He crossed the ruin of a house near the tower with two red armoured men standing guard, swords drawn. They were the guards of the deathbed of their commander, Damion Lannister had succumbed to his injuries yesterday, the poor knight's frozen skin died on his face and his last hours had been the most painful of his entire life, nobody could help him. It was a shame, he was a capable man, during the last battle he performed a cavalry attack, with the meagre rest of the cavalry left, over the left flank saving the host of Lord Umber and had made a major contribution to the possibility of their escape. Without him the Wildlings would have overrun all of them, after that the Northerner had began to see the Westermen with different eyes, maybe because the fact that the Westermen could have been killed easily during this attack. But in Tarly's eye the death of their commander had another, worse side, which was that his men lost any hope; their motivation was on the ground.

Reaching the camp of his men he nearly stumbled over the new commander of the Westermen, a stocky man in his twenties named Ser Hamell, he leaned against a tree at the way.

"Be careful man!" Tarly barked, more angry with himself not to have seen him.

"Sorry my Lord." The man jumped to his feet and bowed slightly.

"All right all right." Tarly answered with a calmer tone, turning to leave but then he got curious. "How are your men?"

"Fine my Lord." Randyll looked doubting at the knight so he added. "They are dismayed about Ser Damion's death but they will fight, for their Lord and their Lady. We fight with her brother so we won't disappoint her." At least something, Tarly nodded and walked away, surprised how much love the Westermen already had for their young Lady.

-##-

More than a month they waited for the news of the Nightwatch, and the days at Last Hearth didn't grow longer, rather they grew shorter. Randyll Tarly sat in the solar of the young Wolf, together with the other high ranking commander musing about a late report.

His men were in good shape, at least the one who hadn't lost any limps from the cold; they would fight well against Stannis, when the day would come. The decision of Lord Stark to wait until he had news from the Nightwatch was wise because it gave them time to accustom to the climate.

His men interrogated some Wildlings they had captured near the castle, according to them they believed Stannis would be their saviour or something, they thought he would be protected by a foreign god. The day of his death would mark the end of this loyalty and the Wildlings will surrender, maybe even fight against each other first, they would find themselves on the other side of the wall soon afterwards.

He thought the scouts could maybe lie but it was their best chance when there was a knock at the door. Turning his head to see who was it, his lost eye restricting his field of vision, he saw a guard accompanied by a young man in a red robe.

"This man comes with a testimonial from King's Landing."

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**Hope you liked it, reviews are hoped for**


	35. Chapter 35

**This took longer than usual, but you will understand why**

**Un-betaed again, I post the right as soon as possible  
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**I own nothing, sadly, if I would do Sansa and Tyrion would be together already**

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Daven

Daven Lannister observed with satisfaction how one of the towers of Pyke toppled into the sea. The fires and the constant bombardment with the trebuchets had weakened the foundation so much that the tower finally yielded. The sea foamed up when the stones crashed in it.

Pyke was the last of the castles which had held a stand against his invasion force, but now it was over, finally the Iron Islands were conquered. It took him a year to slowly seizing every damned castle on these unfriendly islands, even with such a small garrison of Ironborn left after the main part left to the Shields it was hard, but he did it. The Lords or the Ironborn were in captivity, or already on ships towards Casterly Rock to spend some time as hostages of Ser Kevan. He would be instructed by his cousin what to do with the prisoners as soon as the message of the victory arrived.

Lord Tyrion would most likely demand hostages, making somebody like Lord Harlaw to the new Lord-paramount. Daven would speak in his favour, the Reader had been very compliant after Daven promised him to spare his niece, Asha Greyjoy and allowing her to be his heir after the war was over. He had convinced several Lords to bend the knee and shortened the campaign with these actions more than expected.

Scratching his beard Daven saw how his men ran up the red lion-flag above the highest remaining tower of Pyke, with a smirk on his face he turned to his lieutenant.

"After the entire castle is secured the main part of the Army will retread to Ten Towers. I want a troop to remain and to tear down the entire castle, bring it down into the sea." Everybody should see what happened if he betrayal the King.

The Greyjoys wasn't the only one who had rebelled but their fatal error was to do it twice. Tyrion clearly had explained it to him. He could pardon everybody if he only rebelled once but twice would be too much a King would be considerate weak pardoning somebody twice. The Ironborn would pay, this was for sure but Daven doubted it would contain their ways for more than a few years. In ten maybe fifteen years they would start to pillage again, maybe sooner maybe later.

He walked down the path to the ships which were moored at the other side of the cliffs around Pyke, he was very pleased to be able to sail to Harlaw today, he had expected to be at least another week on this rock in the sea.

The supply situation was very good, his men were in a good mood, the moral was high; actually everything a commander could wish for, the only thing that bothered his was the plague the Ironborn were befallen with. Something killed them and even the Maesters he had brought with him couldn't determinate what was wrong with them. Furthermore a large number of floods had hit the island lately; it was like the Drowned God would turn against his worshipper.

Suddenly Daven beheld his old friend Ser Wirimyr, he knew the stocky knight for years, his best friend and trusted advisor during this conquest.

"Wirimyr, how are you?" He greeted him, gestured him to follow him to the shore.

"Good, good." He answered absently before turning to follow him, his hands in his pockets. "The landlord of the inn is dead."

"Unfortunate." He replied unmoved, he never liked the man who had administered the inn in the small village near Pyke. He didn't fight against his men but he was still an Ironborn. "The plague?"

"Yes."

"Do the Maesters finally know what it is?"

"No, they are clueless." His friend starred absently in the wide. "They just get sick and die."

"Our men?"

"Not a single one of them is sick. I have no idea why."

"We will see." Daven was actually really indifferent what would happen with the Ironborn, as soon as he was ordered to retreat he wouldn't look back at this place, ever. Reaching the shore he appointed Wirimyr to the new commander of the troops on Pyke before climbing in the boat which would bring him to his ship.

The Huntsman

Once again Randyll Tarly found himself at the gates of Castle Black, but this time he not only fought to end Stannis, no, apparently he had a much greater cause to follow, protecting the realm from the attack of evil monster out of the fairytales. Something his son Sam would piss himself about when he listened to his mother, nothing he ever had considered real. He had wanted to laugh when the priest with the testimonial from King's Landing had told the commander of their army the story at Last Hearth, believing it would have been a bad prank from the Imp, but then the foreigner had performed some wild gestured with his hands and a bright red light appeared, followed from some glitter in the air and then something in him forced him to believe the wild story.

He still believed it, maybe this god was real, he might worship the seven, like his ancestors, but only two days after the priest a large host of Skagos appeared, wild savages riding on unicorns. These unicorns actually looked like some oversized goats with only one horn but they would be able to overrun any array of Stannis. It was like this red god had intervened and apparently wasn't on Stannis side.

Even better news for Lord Stark had been that his little brother Rickon was with them, riding on a wild Direwolf with the really unsuitable name 'Shaggy-dog' he had been on the top of the Skagos host. It seemed the Lord of Skagos would be related with the Starks over their great grandparents.

With that they had ten-thousand more men to attack Stannis and even better were that the men from the South somehow had increased their moral over the last days. No losses because of frostbite or hunger. And if the Nightwatch would do the part they promised in a letter to the young Wolf they would win.

With his one good eye he inspected the battlefield, the traces from the last battle were disappeared and it appeared Stannis would use a different battle order this time, the Wildlings in the centre and no traps from behind hills. He wouldn't be able to fight in the vanguard this time, his eye prevented that, the only thing he could do was inspire the first lines of the main host from behind. A shame, how could he honest say his words now?

The horns resounded and with a drawn sword, high on his horse Robb Stark led the entire army at once into battle, the Skagos men with their unicorns at the sides. He pressed his heels in his horse and rode slowly in the centre of the men; he had to turn his head left and right to see everything with only one eye. By the second horn-signal he started to shout.

"Forward, let's bring them the King's peace." He shouted in the mid of his men, drawing his sword too and pointed it to the platform he saw attached to Castle Black. He could see Stannis on it his shiny sword in the air and besides him a red robed person.

The troops stormed forward, and he heard them crashing into Stannis lines, now it would be men versus men, shield at shield sword, axe, mace or spear against each other, his men were strong motivated but they would still pay a high death toll.

He rode between the lines shouting orders or inspire in the lines, gazing around he witnessed how the unicorns overrun the flanks with Stannis armoured men, but the centre of Stark's army didn't benefit from it, they were pressed back by the pure amount of men Stannis had, and then there was the lightning.

Three Roses

Slowly climbing up the staircase Loras braced himself for the task to come, his grip tightened around the scroll of parchment in his pocket. At the bottom of the stairs, leading to the platform the 'King' overlooked the battles from; Stannis's guards had let him pass without hesitation. Loras volunteered for what would come, he wasn't even sure if he would survive, but this didn't matter for him, everything inside him urged him to do it and he won't fail.

'I know what I demand and I would do it myself if I could" Lord Snow had told him in his study last night, clearly uncomfortable with the situation. It had been hard for him to agree to his brother's plan to join forces against Stannis; he hadn't been willing to take sites in this war because of the oath he had taken. Loras had tried to appeal to his duty towards his family, it had been futile, was his loyalty already as strong as his own, only had he more honour for his oath. The argument that Stannis jeopardized their duty to protect the realm by allying with Wildlings had been weak but enough to turn the scale. The Lordcommander had wanted to do the deed himself but the red witch didn't trust him anymore and the injury the traitor inflicted him wasn't healed yet, maybe it would never heal, so it had been Loras chance the chance he had waited for a long time.

Reaching the door at the end of the staircase he quickly adjusted his black cloak and harness, the last what he needed was that they would hinder him, slowing him down, he had had to let his sword by the guards at the entrance, Stannis would believe he was harmless.

Loras knocked at the door to the platform, soon after the thick oak door was opened by a guard with the burning heart on his chest.

"A message for the King from Lord Snow." Loras carefully looked the man up and down, trying to determine how much of an opponent he would be. The guard reached out with his hand but Loras pulled back. "I have orders to give this to the King personally." With a grunt and a frown the guard opened the door wide and let him in.

The platform was attached to the south tower of Castle Black and allowed the look over the plain south of the Wall. Lord Davos stood with the red witch near a table with maps, overseeing the battle. Stannis stood near the edge waving his sword to his men, Loras saw hoe the red witch approached him, laying her hands on his shoulders.

The battle was running in his brutal ways, Loras could see the lot of Wildlings fighting in the middle of Stannis army towards the green, red and grey mass of Robb Stark. It didn't look good for the young Wolf, his line was a dented crescent, he and his men held their stand but this wouldn't be for long.

"Your grace, Ser Loras is here with a message for you." The guard made an approach to his King, averting his eyes from the red woman. Sheathing his sword, Stannis turned around and walked to Loras, followed by his loyal Onion Knight.

"What is it" Stannis face looked like it was made out of stone, without any joy in it he opened his hand to Loras.

Loras's heart started to pound wildly in his chest, he felt his blood in heat, this was the moment he waited on nearly an entire year, justice. Stepping closer to Stannis he handed him the scroll, when the false King grabbed it he didn't let go of it and stepped another step to him.

On Stannis bewildered gaze Loras used his left hand to get a hold on Stannis back of head holding him firmly and ripped the hidden blade out of the scroll with the other. Bringing himself nose to nose with Stannis, he looked in the eyes of the man before ramming the blade in his carotid form below.

"He was your brother." He hissed in his face, the King's pupils wide in shock. Loras felt his warm blood running in his glove. He had thought he would feel relief or satisfaction seeing the life floating out of Renly's murder but there was nothing, nothing at all.

Then everything went fast, by the scream of Lord Davos Loras let loose of Stannis head and grabbed the hilt of the sword on his belt, drawing it out he threw the dying Stannis towards the table. The Onion Knight wasn't able to draw his sword before Loras rammed his elbow in the man's face, pushing him over the table towards his dead King. The guards which ran towards him didn't stand a chance against him, the Knight of the Flowers.

He carried out a half-turn and pierced the side of the first attacking man, most likely piercing through his liver, still in motion he ducked under the falling guard and yanked the sword up to delivered it on the head of the next man. He heard his skull crushing and the guard fell limp. Loras had now to kick the dead body with his boot in order to get the sword out of the skull. He wanted to turn around but in the motion he was hit by a bulb of hot air, like the breath of a dragon, it hurled him back, letting him hit the wall.

Slowly opening his eyes, feeling his head dizzy Loras gazed at the red witch, her hair waved in the wind and her hands were in the air. She stood at the edge of the platform frowning at him with her red dress bowing behind her. Lora's eyes widened when he saw the ruby above her breasts staring to glow fiercely, he felt heat rising in him, like his guts would be on fire, he couldn't move and his vision got diffuse.

She murmured something in a foreign language and Loras already thought it would be over with him, did he saw the powers of her before.

But then Loras Tyrell suddenly beheld a flash in the arrays of Robb Stark, a bright red lightning out of the grey and white of Robb Stark's men. The red witch trembled, her arms rocking uncontrollable, her murmuring faltering. Loras witnessed how she brought her hands to her eyes, screaming mad and then fire erupted from behind her palms and her ruby shattered in thousands pieces. Not a blink later she was a single red torch burning in the afternoon. She screamed and trembled, running wildly, searching for help and then she fell, direct over the edge down in the deep.

Loras wasn't sure about what he just witnessed, but putting the thoughts aside he rose to his feat and braced on the sword of Stannis Baratheon he limped to the table, all his body feeling like he had bad sunburn.

His Grace, King Stannis first of his name, was dead, the blood stopped floating out of his pale skin, he laid very ungracefully over the table near the edge, his Hand unconscious besides him. Loras briefly thought about if he should finish him too, but discarding the thought quickly. Lord Davos never harmed him, he was a man of honour and loyalty, he wouldn't kill such a man if it wasn't necessary.

Looking up he saw that the battle luck changed, the burning witch seemed to drag the attention to the platform and the Wildlings saw that their saviour was dead and now they ran. Loras guided the sword, which didn't glare any more to his eyes, glamour nothing more', and after a moment of silence he threw it over the edge in the deep to the witch.

He stood there a while, observing how the area between Wall and Robb Stark's army became the grave of the unorganised Wildlings.

'Renly wouldn't have let this happen'

The Admiral

Cleautus Myatt walked along the gallows which were constructed along the shore of Oakenshield. He was musing about the last year, how he had met Lady Sansa for the first time and how this faithful meeting had led to him becoming Admiral of the Sunset Sea, how Lord Tyrion had sent him to the Iron Islands and then here to the Shields. It took long to conquer these tiny islands but now it was over. The Lannister fleet and the Redwyn fleet seized the islands for nearly a year until Lord Tyrell had decided to send his son to end it all.

Myatt had thought it would be a bad idea to send a cripple to do the duties of a warrior. He had heard of him of course, a boy who breed dogs and looked at stars, not very convincing for a battle commander. But the boy had proved himself as very worthy; despite his disability he had a sharp mind and a good understanding of war. He had ordered a simultaneous attack on all four islands during the night and with that the Ironborn were defeated.

But what had surprised him even more was the hard justice the heir to Highgarden showed in the afterwards. Any other commander would have allowed the Ironborn Lords to retread to the Iron Islands after demanding hostages or bringing them as prisoners to Highgarden. He on the other hand had ordered to hang them along the shore, all of them, sailor, soldier and Lord, nobody was spared.

Myatt reached his destination, a large round of gallows with a slightly higher in the middle. In front of it stood Lord Willas, stabilized on a cane, watching the struggle of the man at the robe. Crow's Eye, Euron Greyjoy, dangled besides of his brother Victarion, gasping for breath.

Myatt stepped beside Willas Tyrell, and gazed briefly at his face, seeing a smile upon it, cloyed he looked up to the delinquent again, it was cruel not letting him dance instead of letting his neck break.

"You think it is an unnecessary cruelty of me to let him dance, Admiral?" He heard Tyrell speaking from his side, his voice wasn't cold, it was surprisingly gentle considering what he just had ordered Myatt always expected a harder tone. Cleautus didn't avert his eyes from the Iron Born.

"They aren't common pirates, they are combatant in a war, no matter what, they deserve some respect." He remembered how Lord Tywin treated his family after one of his relatives fought for the Reynes, no matter who their enemies were he thought they deserved to be treated with respect and the decency their status as nobles demanded.

"But that is exactly what they are, Admiral, pirates." A smirk formed between Tyrell's brown hair which framed his face. "We can't tolerate them disobeying the costumes of our society because they think their god wants it. They pillaged and enslaved, killing senseless. This disobedience isn't acceptable."

"You can't deal with disobedience?" Myatt asked a bit unbelieving.

"I never could, there are rules in this world, rules everyone has to follow. I am here to make an example what happens to men who neither follow law or costume."

"Says a man whose family fought at the side of an usurper and who wanted to steal a hostage from his family's ally." Myatt knew where the corpses of House Tyrell were buried, some was common knowledge some was part of the gossip he listened to during his travel to Casterly Rock a year ago.

"I never fought on Lord Renly's side, nor did I agree to his course. I held Highgarden as it was my duty as loyal son." Myatt gazed briefly at the Tyrell; Greyjoy had stopped struggling and was most likely dead so the man was more interesting. He looked tense. "I never intended to marry a hostage Lord Myatt." Willas Tyrell turned his head to him a gruesome smile on it together with cold eyes, a complete opposite to his voice. "Why should I care for a maid, my dogs might care more." Bowing his head slightly he limped away, letting Myatt stand alone.

"Creepier isn't possible, heh?" He spoke to himself, letting his eyes wander over the ring of hanging man. At least thirty Ironborn hung from the gallows, crows on their shoulders picking their eyes out. It smelled like dead and then Myatt sensed the ash, following the smell he beheld a pile of black smoke rising in the air. It seemed Tyrell already ordered to burn the ships, he had announced he would, after the men had taken the planks to build the gallows but he didn't expect this now. A shame, the ships were worth pretty much and he could have used the money to reward his men.

The first time he met Willas Tyrell he never had thought he would be able to do such, executing all Ironborn and burning their ships, but being a cripple didn't let you un-scared, no matter how beloved someone is. But maybe it all was a mask and he would change back in the nice dog breeding heir of Highgarden sooner rather than later after the battle is over, even if Myatt doubted it.

However the Ironborn were defeated at the Shields, peace would be next and he could go north to the Westerlands again.

The fire priest

Zuquid was very satisfied with the battle result. The army of the false Hero had been defeated and now he waited in the fresh taken castle of the watchers for the leader of the old blood. It had been more difficult than he had expected to find the large shadow but eventually he had found him with his wife of old blood in the capital of this realm, the fire in her hair had led him the way, R'hllors ways are always prosperous, Persuade them that he spoke the truth was another thing, he hadn't been able to tell them everything, some of it, like the knowledge of the hidden prince or the corpses of the old or the servant of the Great Other he had to battle beyond the Wall wasn't their to know. It would have created only confusion.

Convincing them had been able because of an ancient spell he had learned back in Asshai, his teachers thought it might be helpful for his mission in Westeros, the spell might faint after he left the people he cast it on, but doubt that he was right would always remain. The same spell he had used to convince the Lord of this land, Robb Stark, and his men, first he had been surprised that the leader of old blood didn't look like the description of his ancestors, without dark brown hair, but he had the sword and the aura he had searched for. Robb Stark was the leader and the only thing Zuquid had left to do to complete his mission was finding the hidden prince, activating Lightbringer and fighting the servant of the Great Other who tried to corrupt a child of the old blood so Zuquid could prevent that the great wall come down. Easy right?

He had been hopeful the last part of his mission would be not necessary when they had brought Rickon Stark back from the cannibals; unlucky for him there was a second brother and he most likely was the child the Great Other tried to corrupt.

At least the cannibals gave the army the possibility to attack the false hero a second time, and this time they had had him. He used his powers granted by R'hllor to cheer up their hearts, warming their flesh. And when he had spotted the false prophet he showed her what a true servant of R'hllor was capable of, it was a very fortunate coincidence that she had tried to kill a man, what had given him the opportunity to kill her in agreement of R'hllors Commandments and destroying the ruby she somehow had gotten from Asshai.

The creak of the door led his attention from his thoughts to the present, turning around he spotted two soldiers in grey who escorted a black haired woman in cuffs into the room and let her sit on a bench at the side. Seeking company and driven by his curiosity Zuquid approached her, giving the guards a warning gaze when they wanted to stop him, it had advantages to be an envoy.

"And who are you? Robb Stark's court foul?" She asked him snappish, looking him up and down after he sat by her side.

"No, I am Zuquid, servant of R'hllor." He introduced himself, overhearing the insult on purpose. After a few months in Westeros he slowly started to understand their culture entirely, and was able to move amongst them without the struggles he had first. His confidence had increased too, he was the only true servant of R'hllor in this realm and he had a mission.

"Asha." she answered shortly but very proud, looking at the opposite wall.

"Hello Asha." He greeted her, smiling friendly. "What are you doing here?"

"I was a prisoner of Stannis Baratheon, now I am here because Robb Stark has to decide if he wanted to keep me such."

"Why should he?" She didn't look like a naive country girl, this Zuquid had to admit, more like a warrior woman from Vahar, but why should Lord Stark, a very honourable man keep her as a prisoner?

"I am an Ironborn." She claimed proud, sitting upright.

"You are one of the traitors!" Suddenly it dawned on Zuquid, he knew what she was and a feeling of disgust spread in him.

"We are no traitors." She jumped up and if her hands wouldn't be bind she most likely had attacked him. The guards were quick, pushing her down, frowning at Zuquid to cause the trouble.

"You are traitors, of your honour and your god." He schooled the woman who sat again, gazing at him like she tried to let his head explode.

"We are Ironborn, we are free, nobody obliged to fidelity than our captain. You know nothing about us."

"I know more than you I think." He answered her calmly, 'maybe she didn't know the truth of her heritage' he thought to himself. "What are the words of your faith?"

"What is dead may never die, but rises again, harder and stronger" She replied automatically, he smiled at her knowing.

"Do you know why these are your words?" She looked clueless, not sure what he wanted from her, so he started his explanation. "Even if the faith of R'hllor is dualistic, we knew there are certain strong beings, you may call them gods, in the world, some are allied to R'hllor some to the Great Other." She wanted to interrupt him bust he gestured with his hands and with a slightly flash of his ruby she was silent and open hearted for his words. "The God you pray to is an ally of R'hllor. During the last great battle, you call it the long night; your people were called upon to fight for the side of light under the first of House Stark. In exchanged your god granted everybody who was devout to the course and proved his will to fight, drowning I think it was, the protection from the return from the death as soldier of the Great Other and his strength in battle against the dark. Drowned they were already dead once and so immune against the powers of the Others except for wounds of steal or glass. You own all member of Lord Stark's House loyalty. But you betrayal your god by attacking the lands of the Starks instead of joining them, your god will turn from you and punish you all than he is revengeful. Your Islands will suffer until you redeem yourself in his view." She wanted to reply, but before she opened her mouth the door swung open again and Robb Stark entered the room.

"My Lord" Zuquid stood up to greed him; he looked like he came straight from the battlefield, even if the battle was over for hours. "Can I..."

"Not yet." He cut him off with a gesture. "I was with the men and now I want to speak with the Lordcommander. Where is he?" He asked to his guard when the other door to the large room was opened and a boy in black came in. He was thin and with a scar in his face. For Zuquid he looked more like a Stark than Lord Stark himself, and there was an aura he could sense through his ruby, could his search for the hidden prince of old and valyrian blood already be over?

"Jon?" Lord Stark looked surprised at him, approaching the boy; it seemed in his own age quick. "We thought you are dead?"

"I nearly was." With a huge smile on his face the Lordcommander of the Nightwatch approached Lord Stark too and hugged him firmly. "A very displeased member of my own men stabbed me. Many though I would be dead, but here I am."

"So I am not the only one betrayed by a man I thought to be my own. A pleasant surprise brother, we have much to discuss and I have to thank you for your men's help."

"Yes we have, but first. Is Sansa really married to Lord Tyrion?" He asked with much doubt in his voice, turning his head slightly to his side.

"Surprisingly happy, I have no clue how." Jon looked like a hammer had hit him, open mounded he visually tried to find words. "I know, I know." Robb Stark gestured. "I can't believe it too."

"My Lord, may I try something?" Zuquid walked up to the brothers, sadly interrupting their reunion.

"Not now" Robb Stark harshly stopped him with a gesture.

"It will only take a minute, would my Lord handing Lord Jon, eh, sorry I don't know your full name" He turned to the Lordcommander.

"Snow" He replied a bit bitter.

"Thank you, Zuquid from Asshai." He introduced himself briefly before turning to Lord Stark again. "Would my Lord handing Lord Snow your sword for a moment and receive it back from Lord Snow immediately?"

Both boys looked at him like he spoke in tongues but then a spark of understanding flashing in Robb Stark's eye. Drawing his great-sword from his back he offered it to his brother, who took it hesitantly. This was the moment Zuquid waited for, the blink the boy touched the sword it started to radiate heat, surprised by the event he nearly dropped it. Zuquid couldn't suppress a smile, he found Azor Ahai and Lightbringer was revived.

"Now I can anoint all weapons of your men, they will be as effective as dragonglass against the Others." He told Lord Stark. Both brothers just stood there, not knowing what just happened.

No one

He watched how the fire consumed the slaver's city, he listened to the gruesome roars of the beasts above it and felt the heat of fire together with the sand and ash of the land blew up by the wind on his skin. It smelled like the madness of Valyria bringing the mercy of the many faced God, granted to all people of the city, slaves or old nobles, man or woman or child.

The fighting pits were gigantic coal basins exhaling dark smoke in the air which darkened the sun. Taking in the view no one seated himself on the sandy ground, leaning at a rock nearby, the one who had followed him seated themselves next to him, this would take some time.

Their mission had been easy, or so he felt. The first of his order had sent him here, in the Slavery Bay in the new forged realm of the Valyrian offspring. Arrived he had taken the face of one of her guard, enabling him to follow her everywhere, observing her, waiting for him to strike. His companions had infiltrated her guards too or had mixed with the people in the city, committing little attacks to trigger her paranoia to feat the madness in her. She had been arrogant, at the edge of the madness of her blood, but on the other hand she had been merciful, a liberator of slaves. Her unavoidable death was a shame but it had to be done so it had been spoken. She had succeeded to wake dragons out of their stony sleep, this hadn't been supposed to happen, and they couldn't allow that it happened again, so not only her dragons had been the threat.

He had waited, had followed her until the day the other Valyrian came, the boy claimed to be her long lost nephew, if it was truth or not was beyond his knowledge, but it had been time then. At this day he had taken the face of the white knight, he had approached him during his sleep, bringing him the gift of mercy. In the disguise of her advisor he had been able to guide her into the direction planed, telling her the boy would be an imposer, asking her why she, the mother of dragons, should follow a boy with blue dyed hair who hadn't any proof if he was who he claimed.

It had worked; she had confronted him at the next day, asking the questions he had whispered in her ear, offending him deeply. The boy was as arrogant as she was; the children of Valyria all did have a megalomania matching nothing in the world.

The plan of the puppet-masters in the back had been good, bringing them together to gain as much power as possible and then attack the land at the other side of the sea. The Knowing had warned them. The allies and minds behind all this had already received the gift, he had received this messages a few days ago. The one who had worked with words to prepare the lands to conquer, gaining allies and potential friends had fallen by the hand of a guard when he had tried to kill a man he once wanted as ally for all this, or mediator between both. The other men in the old cities of Valyria had received the gift too, in Pentos, Lys and in Tyrosh, all of them were dead.

He flinched slightly when one of the walls of the great Pyramid broke down, burying a part of the city, the smaller pyramids already had broken down on the houses of the people, he heard their screams and cries for mercy, but nobody listened. He pitied them, seeing the mountains of Meereen crashing on them.

The black dragon appeared behind the great pyramid, gliding over the city, heading quick to his brother. The green one flew at him, jaw open and teeth twinkling, ready to spit fire at his older blood. After the seed of mistrust had been planted the old Valyrian madness did her part. Their end had been sealed when the green dragon escaped his prison, with some help of his companions of course and had chose the boy as his rider.

Driven by jealously and the impression he had tried to steal her precious child the girl demanded him back. The boy had denied, claiming the dragon's choice would be proof of his superior claim, and so the fight had started. Driven by the madness all of Valyria had deep inside of them, they destroyed each other, taking the city and all who lived in it with them. No one could see it from his place; the white dragon was already dead, lying on one of the dooms of the Temple of the Graces.

They had given him a poisoned goat for his meal and even if it was hard to poison a dragon he died because the Knowing shared their knowledge and experience with them.

He now saw how the last dragons wedged in each other, their claws ramming in the others flesh and he even could see how their rider struggled against the movements of their riding animals. But the beasts couldn't stay in the air with their claws in each other; they fell deep in the burning ruins of the city.

A sudden firestorm and a last gasp of the black one and then it was over, their screams ceased their life most likely ended. He wanted to send his comrades-in-arms in the city, they should see if they were really dead and if not bringing them the gift. But not now the fire should cease first, there was no use if they received the gift by accident.

He was happy, it was over, the dragons were dead, the last Valyrians were dead, once when the Valyrian Madness destroyed or enslaved millions the first of his order had brought the gift for the first time, and his acolytes had brought down Valyria, now his descendents ended the rise of a new Valyria.

Their work was finished, now they could follow their normal day again.

Zuquid

The cold was cruel, Zuquid stomped through the snow beyond the Wall towards the destination his ruby led him. He had performed an old spell so R'hllor would show him the right way, he knew what would expected of him, maybe even the last sacrifice. They had let their horses behind in the ruins of a small village and were now on foot.

"How long will we need until we reaching our destination?" Jon Snow suddenly asked from behind him, he and twenty of his men volunteered to join him in his search and protecting him. He was lucky that they were there, he hadn't the slightest urge to wander alone through the forest with beasts and Others, besides the wolf of Jon Snow had surprising powers. He sensed them already with the wolf of Lord Stark or his brother Rickon. They were like protectors, triggering old powers in their blood beyond imagination. He hadn't felt much of it with Sansa Lannister, only something like empathy, but with her brothers this powers were gigantic, nearly matching his, but in a different way.

"Not very long, I feel we will reach our goal soon." He answered Snow's question, and turned his head back on their way until he heard Lord Snow coming closer.

"Can I talk to you?"

"Of course you can." He already knew what he would ask, after he revealed him that he was Azor Ahai and opened him the path to his destiny there were always questions. He had explained to him that he was the hero to fight the Great Other, maybe even this task right now would be the fulfilment of it.

"You say I am Azor Ahai reborn but why me? I am a bastard, not the material of great heroes." It was always the same question, why me? Zuquid had thought about revealing his most likely heritage to the boy, that one of his parents was from valyrian blood, but knowing the history of Westeros he had decided not to do so. It could cause more problems than it would solve, considering who would come into question for the boy's parents.

"You are from the old blood, a watcher of this world, isn't that enough? Is the circumstance that your name is Snow really so important?"

"I suppose not." Jon Snow murmured in his scarf, but Zuquid had the suspicion he would ask again soon. "So what exactly is our task then?" He asked a bit more casually.

"A servant of the Great Other found a way to destroy the Wall; we are on our way to stop him." He replied short, not wanting to tell him from the boy's brother who was most likely the tool his foe wanted to use. "It's not a horn if you want to ask, something much more precious. If we succeed your brother will be able to fight back the main host of our enemy at the Wall and all of his will be over." Much more precious, 'only who built it can destroy it', was the old saying and so the great Other needed someone of the old blood to destroy the Wall.

"Forever?" Jon Snow asked with a bit of hope in his voice

"No, just for now, the Great Other can't be slain just unimpeded." Zuquid destroyed his hopes regretting it. "In a few thousand years he will most likely try again."

"And these things will work?" Another voice got through from behind to Zuquid's ear, turning around he gazed at Loras Tyrell, pointing at his sword.

"Yes, after Lightbringer had all his powers restored I was able to anoint the entire steal in your host. Now it is effective against the Others, similar to dragonglass, that's why you could call it dragonsteal if you want." Zuquid wanted to elaborate further when a sudden feeling stopped him.

"We are at our destination." He looked up to the entrance of a cave in a hill of snow.

"You are sure?" Lord Snow asked at his side, after receiving a nod from him he turned to his men. "Secure the parameter!" Zuquid witnessed how the men of the Nightwatch swarmed out, himself deep in thoughts about what would happen next.

Suddenly there was a scream, turning to the noise Zuquid beheld a pale looking creature attacking one of the men, the black brother rammed his sword in the body of the attacker and he felt limp immediately. But now there were more and more of them attacking the brave men.

"I must in the cave, now." He sternly spoke to Lord Snow who didn't look sure what to do; he had already his valyrian sword with the wolf-head at the hilt in one hand, his white Direwolf in attack-posture at his side. He turned his head left and right, but only could see what Zuquid saw, his men fighting a superior number of wights, but with success, the dragonsteal let them die by the tiniest scratch. Then he turned to the Knight of the Flowers at his side.

"Lead the attack, I escort the priest." Grabbing Zuquid's arm and accompanied by the wolf Lord Snow dragged him towards the entrance; he nearly fell over his red robe but steadied himself quick.

Arrived at the entrance Lord Snow quickly slew a man in a hood who tried to stop them. In the cave a horrific scene awaited them. In one corner laid the corpses of two children, a boy and a teenage girl, frozen to ice but with visible injuries at the heads and frozen blood in their hair. In a different corner, leaned at the wall laid creatures from different kind, Zuquid recognized them out of descriptions he once read about the Old, but this one wasn't graceful, they were apathetic like in a deep sleep with open eyes.

The white wolf of Jon Snow started to run in the dark of the cave, following him through the system of caves covered with roots they eventually found him together with another wolf.

"My brother's Direwolf." Lord Snow exhaled, gazing to him with fury in his eyes. "What didn't you tell me?"

"Whatever happens, take your brother and flee, bring him back to the Wall." He explained quick, feeling somebody very powerful approaching. "I will follow if I succeed and if not." Zuquid bowed deep. "It was an honour." Zuquid stormed in the next room of the cave, not looking back or recognizing the boys shaking fury, carefully not to fall over the roots on the ground he finally reached his enemy.

He looked like a corpse, his body skeletonised and his clothes rotten, but Zuquid could feel who he was, the servant of Great Other. Behind him on a throne of roots a boy with thin legs was seated, a giant man with a beard at his feet, the eyes of the boy were closed.

"You are not welcome here." The corpse spoke to him his only red eye glaring holes in his. "I am the last Greenseer and this is my realm."

Zuquid moved his feet to have a better stand his arms in front of him. "I am Zuquid of Asshai, servant of R'hllor, and you will vanish!" He screamed at him, trying to control the fear creeping in his bones, praying to R'hllor for enough might to beat him.

"Bran!" Zuquid heard Lord Snow shouting from behind, using the moment of surprise of his foe he gathered his will-power and hurled a red flame at him, throwing him back.

"Take him and run!" He shouted to Azor Ahai, running to the stumbled corpse and grabbing the ruin of his face with both hands, feeling his skin burning under his palms. "Run!"

A Hit at his chest let him fly through the cave and he landed only a feet away from the wall, his head was dizzy but he could see how the giant took the boy in his arm and Lord Snow led them out of the cave the wolfs at their sides.

"No!" The scream of the corpse felt like he wanted to melt his brain, recite an old prey to R'hllor Zuquid tackled the Great Other's servant, throwing him at the ground again. He managed to straddle him; ripping his ruby from his neck he pressed it in the centre of the corpse's chest.

"By R'hllor I order you to vanish from this world!" He started to cast an exorcism, the ruby started to glow stronger than ever, eliciting inhuman screams from the corpse, he tried to shake him of but it was too late, his power was broken, he would finally find himself at the gates of the afterlife.

Under his body his foe turned slowly to ash, but this had a price, Zuquid felt how his life was sucked out of him, the spell cost more than he expected, by the rate he would die soon, but he didn't care, his mission was completed, the forces at the Wall would strike back the Great Other's host and the menace would be over for the next generations, what was his life compared to this.

The cave started to quake, the cave collapsed, smiling Zuquid realizing that R'hllor had decided to bury the last weapon which could destroy the Wall, the throne of the olds.

His life was ending when the last part of his foe turned to ash; he closed his eyes in anticipation of the next world.

The former Sellsword

Checking the bands at his leather armour Bronn concentrated himself on what he would have to do, attacking the host of the Faith Militia in front of the gates, the bells of the keep would inform Ser Jaime of the attack and he would in turn attack the walls, storming the city and crushing the Faith Militia. Bronn just had to retread as soon as the reinforcements for the Sparrows at the keep came from the walls, a nice diversionary manoeuvre. He looked over his men, mostly knights they had brought from the Westerlands but also some of his own men, trained in more skills than common knights.

Satisfied with his armour, he didn't wear the plate armour, it was too heavy and for him only suitable for walking up and down the wall in case of arrows, he wanted to turn to the gates when the Imp approached him.

"Bronn, a word." He gestured him to follow slightly away from the man. Leaning at the wall of the corner they had reached he cocked his ears. "I assume you have some of your own men under them." His liege-lord gestured with his head to the group they just left and after Bronn nodded he continued. "I want you and some of your men to left the group, after you secure victory of course and march to the Great Sept of Baelor."

"And why?" Bronn asked curious but could think of what the Imp wanted.

"I want you bring me the High Septon. Secretly, let all other think he is dead. Bring him in a black cell."

"Good, but why should I risk my life, it will be very hard to drag him here." He pointed with his finger on the ground under his heels, smirking at the Imp.

"Because somebody has to pay for this siege, and I decided it will be him. If people think he is dead nobody will care anymore and I can thank him properly for scaring Sansa. And of course the amount of gold I will pay you." Tyrion told him, opening his palms to him. Understanding his feeling, the siege was hell since the wolf-girl and the young Queen decided to show compassion to the lower ones and had rationed the food Bronn bowed his head.

"One High Septon, on the way." Bronn bowed slightly, smirking again and turned to leave.

"Good luck." The Imp shouted after him.

-##-

The sally had been easier than he thought, they killed the most of the Sparrows before they even had the chance to alert more, actually pretty bad considering the real purpose of the attack, but some unlucky lad had been able to blow his horn before getting an axe between his scapulae. After the reinforcements arrived he had sent the men back in the keep and had run with six other men to the Sept.

The security had been ludicrous, that's why he now stood in the main hall, the High Septon and a few of his followers in front of him, the blood of their guards spilled over the marble floor.

Carefully stepping not to slip at the blood he approached the men who threw curses at his head.

"Do you hear that?" He asked him, referring to the noise from the walls. "That is Ser Jaime and a bunch of really angry soldiers taking the city." He explained him clearly, not going slower. "Soon your little pious Militia will be a distance memory again, and the Imp wishes to have you in a black cell for the occasion. With these words he rammed his fist into the man's face feeling bones splinter with joy.

"You monster." One of the Septas cried out when her leader fell unconscious to the floor. Smirking Bronn turned around, gesturing with his thump over his shoulder.

"No witnesses, and make sure one of them is mistaken for the High Sparrow." Whit this words he marched out of the room, not listening to the screams of the soon not witnesses. He reached a window and looked outside, leaning in the frame. Bronn observed how the troops of Jaime Lannister marched through the streets of the city, the Faith Militia fleeing from them. The battle was over before it really began, Lord Tyrion will be satisfied and he would have time to enjoy the wealth, he had acquired the last year, soon.

The Sphinx

Sarella stood in one of the small groups of novices around the tables in Archmaester Ebrose's class, slowly guiding her knife over the breast of the corpse on the table. The Archmaester behind his silver mask observing them closely, how each group tried to find the right way to open the bodies. She wasn't sure if the ankle was right so she looked to her left to the novice from the wall, the overweight watcher stepped from one foot to the other, nervous and with a pale face, he clearly tried his best to hold his composer and not to look weak by fainting. She considered him as a friend; Sam was nice, friendly, what was really surprising considering what she knew about him. Who his father was, how he fought beyond the Wall. Sam had been arrived with the corpse of Maester Aemon and triggered the disappearance of Archmaester Marwyn nearly a year ago. He knew her secret, she wasn't sure how but he knew that Alleras the boy from the Summer Islands was Sarella Sand daughter of Oberyn Martel, he had promised not to tell anyone and gave her a prerequisite for his word. He had told her from the baby that wasn't his and the alleged mother's, since then she trusted him.

He himself considered himself as a coward, Sarella found this stupid, what a coward would guide a girl and her baby through the woods hunted by Others or being here, doing his duty instead of just deserting when he had been in the Free Cities? He was easily scared yes and he had a weak stomach; he had nearly fainted during his first lesson with Ebrose when he had to cut open a corpse for the first time, but he get a grip. She had helped him, letting him cut open rats and little animals first so he could overcome his problems. Lately she had found herself helping him most of the times with such issues or tutoring him with the bow when he followed the orders of his Lordcommander; in exchanged he helped her with the fields she wasn't so familiar with, money or astrology or in the library.

The fruits of their labour were already visible; his chain had already eight links. He had made a record in the citadel for most links in one year, some of the Archmaester even talked about asking permission by the Nightwatch to release him from his vow so he could stay and maybe become an Archmaester someday. By the rate they died at the moment it would be most likely sooner rather than later.

After Marwyn's disappearance Walgrave had been the first who died, he drowned in his bathtub before the late Archmaester Pycelle had returned to the Citadel and took, a very convincing coincidence, his position.

She had to admit his death was her doing. The lecher somehow discovered what she was and blackmailed her, apparently without the Lannister bribe he hadn't had enough money for a whore so she was supposed to serve as such. He had threatened he would expose what she was to the other Archmaester and would making sure she would be punished, not to mention the humiliation of her father, if she wouldn't let him have his way with her. A bad mistake of him, her father had made sure all of his daughters were able to fight their own battles and she had the bow for such purpose. The old man hadn't seen what hit him.

Sarella's father would object she had killed him to quick, was he the one with the tending for slowly painful punishments. She knew he had poisoned Gregor Clegane with the first part of a two part poison, not a year after his sister's death, damning him to a life with never ceasing headaches and uncontrollable temper tantrums. She figured so much he had planned to administer the second part in the near future before the first part lost his effect, causing a very slow extremely painful death for the monster, only a little dose would have been enough, a small cut not more. But the Imp surprisingly had held his promises and Clegane's boy now rot in the desert.

The rest of her father's greed for revenge had died a year ago when Tywin Lannister had found his end, even if he hadn't explicit wrote it, in one of his encrypted letters to her, she could figured out herself that it had been his doing, he poisoned the man responsible for Elia's dead, and as a cherry on top the son he had despite had inherited everything. It even seemed the Imp was actually really good in what he was doing and House Lannister didn't fell in the disgrace her father hoped for. Her sister had also wrote her that uncle Doran forbid her father to act further against the throne and the coming peace, he even had set men on Arianne's heels to make sure she wouldn't do anything stupid, not when peace was possible, justice was served and the winter arrived, making the sun, Dorne's greatest weapon nearly useless.

Back in the present Sarella gave Sam a demanding gaze and he responded with a nod, she had the right angle; once again he was the only one in her group not being incompetent. She began to open the female corpse's chest, frowning at Lazy Leo when he started to play with one of the breasts. Sam gripped him tightly at his shoulder and pulled him a bit away a stern gaze suppressing any objection.

-##-

"What do you think happened to Pycelle?" Lazy Leo asked in the round, his blond hair hanging in his face. He had started to like to develop conspiracy theories since the Archmaester started to die and once again he decided to bless them with one.

He, Sam, Armen and she sat at their table in the Quill and Tankard, warm cider in front of them, it was too cold outside to sit in the garden the winter had hit Oldtown.

"Maybe the Imp decided he wants more than just depose a disliked Grand Maesters, maybe he decided to kill him because he knew something." Amen gave to consideration his pointy nose wriggling by the smell of the cider. Sarella leaned back, listening to her friends, holding her mask of empty expression.

"Lord Snow once told me about the time he met him. He meant he would be a decent man." Sam hesitantly told the round, receiving a lithe smile from Leo.

"He is his brother-in-law; of course he has to say something nice about him." Leo objected, taking another sip of his cider before continuing. "I think the Imp want power over the Citadel, he started with Pycelle, because he figured it out and the Imp won't stop until he has it."

"He just deposed one Grand Maester, he even let him alive. He doesn't want control over the Citadel." Sarella found this argument ridiculous and wanted to add more when Roone marched in, his robe white of fresh snow.

"Hey, do you heard about what happened at the wall?"

The Huntsmen

The great hall of Winterfell was warm and homely, a nice diversion to the last month in the cold. He raised his cup with the other men around him when the young Wolf toasted on the men who had fallen. He sat at the head of his table, his brothers left and right of him. The older Bran didn't pay attention and chattered with Shireen Baratheon who sat at his other side together with her mother and her new Lord-protector Davos Seaworth. She had been caught in Castle Black after the battle in which her father was killed by Loras Tyrell. Lord Stark treated her like an honourable guest together with his mother and even the onion knight, Randyll thought at least he should have been imprisoned but Lord Stark had thought differ and was backed up when the Imp had sent a pardon for everyone who was ready to bend the knee to the King. Lord Davos had been made Lord-protector for the girl who had been granted Storm's End, even the title of Lord of the Rainforest the knight had been allowed to keep.

Maybe it was fair, he had been loyal and Tarly could respect that, maybe he would even have a drink with him later. Who he really disliked was the boy sitting next to Rickon Stark, Lord Snow, the now infamous Lordcommander of the Nightwatch, he couldn't say the boy was incapable but Randyll hated the fact that he had sent his son to be trained as a Maester, no matter what; no son of his was supposed to wearing a chain. He had confronted the boy about that, only receiving a snappy reply he could do with his men like a wished and he would underestimate his son and his bravery, ridiculous.

But the boy was the Lordcommander of the Nightwatch and had fought well when the Others tried to attack the Wall. He might failed to bring back the red priest but luckily arrows and blades had been 'sanctified' earlier and so it had been more like target-practice for the marksmen than a real battle, only the Ironborn who, out of nowhere, had decided to fight at their side demanded to attack the enemies directly, storming out of the gate they had even succeeded to kill a lot of them. They were pardoned too, the only Ironborn who hadn't been pardoned and allowed to return home had been Theon Greyjoy; his head had been taken at the Dreadfort before the first battle of Castle Black.

Now Northerner, Westermen, men of the Reach and Ironborn celebrated their victory in the fresh rebuilt hall of Winterfell. A small part of their host had remained at the Wall to overlook the Wildlings' way back beyond the Wall, only women and children had been allowed to stay if they bend the knee, not much had.

Tarly himself intended to return home as soon as everything was arranged, he had enough of the cold and the deprivations of war, he had done his duty and at home his wife waited for him and he had to deal with the bastard of his son she wrote about in her last letter. There was no way he would let him or the mother stay at Horn Hill, he would send her and the child back to Castle Black as soon as possible, should the Lordcommander deal with it.

Letting his gaze wander again it fell again at the new Lady of Storm's End who apparently started to play a game with the Stark-boy.

'Greyscale and cripple together' he thought before spotting the Greatjon drinking with a bunch of Lannister knights, and he decided to pay Lord Davos his respect before going to bed, he was tired.

* * *

**Hope you liked it but first**

**I tried to knot up some story lines here and finish everything not related to Sansa and Tyrion, because the story is supposed to focus on them**

**It became more a massacre than I expected first but so it was, the supernatural stuff really increased to, but somehow I had to beat the bedtime-monster**

**I took some inspiration from the old Persian religion with Mazda etc. and used it for the Faith of R'hllor**

**Not all is my opinion about the books or the characters in it, but for the sake of the story it had to be like this**

**Don't forget this are all POV of the characters not necessary the truth (if there is a truth)**

**I had some motivation issues that's why I wrote this all in one day, so Review, it took me with editing at the other day more than sixteen hours**

**I would like to hear your opinions**

**And by the way thanks for reviews and alerts**

**I am in the mid of my finals so there won't be a new chapter next week, but don't worry I am not done with the story yet**

**If the story reach over 95 reviews I will see if I can update sooner  
**


	36. Author's Note

**Author's Note**

**First of all I am terrible sorry for not updating yet, but I am drowning in assignments and a research-paper at the moment but it's all due the end of the month, after that I will be back 100%.**

**I even started the new chapter but It was just to much to do the last weeks.**

**And I want to make clear I not intended to pressure anybody to review so I would continue, even if it sometimes appear so I am not a spoilt child. Or at least I hope so**

**I promise I will work as much as possible so you get the next chapter before the end of the month**

**If you want I have an old story nearly ready like a little sorry, won't need more than two days**


	37. Chapter 37

**First of all, I am so sorry for the delay, I flog myself for it**

**But I have so much to do in the moment and to crown it all my net book broke, I nearly couldn't save my stories, than I had to buy a replacement and work with Win 8 (I hate it)**

**I must thank all of you who stick with the story, review and follow it, favourite it**

**I promise the next chapter won't take so long**

**It seems I lost my beta-reader so sorry for the mistakes**

**I own nothing (sadly)**

* * *

Sansa carefully climbed up the stairs to the top of the outside wall of the Red Keep, stabilizing herself with one hand, at the wall on her right side, in fear she would slip on the trodden steps. She had let Brienne with Tommen and Margaery, so there was nobody to aid her, even her other guards waited at the base of the stairs, ordered to stay where they were. Her other hand laid on her belly, a habit she developed over the last month, a gesture of protection for her child, even if there wasn't much to see yet.

The last months had been hard, full of deprivation, the last siege of the keep had only lasted a single day, not two month and they had tugged at her nerves. First she had been distraught, fearing to lose all what had come to her, without Tyrion she hadn't survive this time.

Come to know that she was pregnancy had been the best news she could have received at this faithful evening, when the siege started, but the knowledge had come with a price. She feared for her child, more than she ever had feared for herself. The possibility it could die because of the siege had tormented her ever since. Tyrion had assured her everything would be fine, eventually, had held her in her moments of doubt and it helped. Still, at the thought of a danger for her baby, her stomach knotted and goosebumps together with cold sweet rose on her spine.

She had tried to distract herself, pretending nothing would be out there; Margery had aided her with that course, helping her hosting feasts, sowing with her. Sansa and she also had spent much time in the Godswood, together with Tommen and Margery's cousins, even Tyrion sometimes had joined them too.

After the announcement of her pregnancy they, especially her uncle, even had tried to shield her of everything outside. Futile to say it hadn't worked.

The excessive feast had stopped after Sansa and Margery had spotted a nearly starved group of children, of the servants, in one corner of the yard. She hadn't known that the food had been so much rationed for the commoners, because she and Margery found it wrong, that they would have to hunger and they ate like nothing would happen. They had achieved that the excessive feasts stopped and that the commoners would get more to eat.

The dowager Queen however objected, of course, she always objected. Cersei hadn't been a great help at all during the siege, a hurtful meant commentary about her being pregnant with a dwarf's child was all she had said to her, except her constant nagging about the current rule. Since Tyrion and she were trying their best to keep Tommen from her influence Cersei had retreated to her room, only accompanied by a maid and sometimes an old crone. The wise woman, Sansa had sent for when Margery had needed help, had been in the keep when the Faith had surrounded it and had been trapped with them. After her second meeting with Cersei the old Queen had spent a suspiciously long time in her chambers, not letting herself see in the castle. If Sansa would have had time or energy to worry about her she would have investigated, but not this time.

Now Cersei was in the same room she had spent the last attack on the castle, most likely already drunk and making everybody uncomfortable. Sansa had luckily been able to escape, poor Margaery hadn't had such luck, as Queen she was stuck to stay at Tommen's side and he was with his mother. On the other hand Sansa was glad somebody was watching over Tommen, furthermore Margaery wasn't alone, she had her brother, and her cousins with her.

Finally reaching the top of the wall Sansa beheld a small group of men watching the city. Tyrion stood in the gap between two battlements; Sansa had to smirk about the scene. He wore a pompous red golden armour, looking like a knight or even a King ready for a great battle but wasn't able to look over the battlements.

He looked good, since his shoulder had healed and he, to Sansa's relief, stopped drinking the milk of the poppy, he was back to his old form again. He might deny that the drug had influenced his judgement but then, sometimes he read his old directives from during the time of his healing process and asked her if he really had written such. To her further ease he also had given up his futile search for a possible murder of his father, admitting to her that it was just an obsession.

Besides him stood her uncle and Prince Martel, Pod leaned at one of the battlements, peeking in the city.

Her uncle wore his pate armour, holding his sheathed sword, he looked grim and vigilantly over the square in front of the wall. Sansa suspected he wasn't really satisfied with the situation, most likely Tyrion favoured Bronn over him by choosing a leader for the sally. The Blackfish had led the men of the keep during the entire siege; his experience had made him the most suitable for the task and now he was condemned to let Bronn, who wasn't really his friend, led the final attack. Sansa hoped his pride would survive it. Most likely, she thought, he wasn't as easy offended than other knights.

Martell's appearance looked the complete opposite of her uncle. He wore a bright orange armour with a west, mailed with pear pikes over it. His demeanour gave the impression he would attend a play or a tournament, not a battle.

She approached the men, Pod was the first to spot her, inhaling sharply by her sight, he franticly tapped Tyrion on his shoulder to get his attention.

"What is it?" Tyrion now turned around, his eyes widened at her sight. Sansa stepped between Martell and her uncle, catching their attention. Visibly dumbfounding them.

"Sansa?" Tyrion was the first who caught his voice back, sounding totally taken aback. "What are you doing here?" Sansa wanted to walk pass him before answering, peaking over the walls, but hadn't a chance to see much, when a large hands grabbed her from behind and pulled her back, letting her exhale a gasp.

"Careful, child!" It was her uncle, sounding more worried than she had expected. "The lowlifes won't hesitate to aim at you when they get a chance. This isn't a battle of chivalry; they don't care if they hit a man or a woman." He guided her far back from the wall, still holding her. He positioned himself before her and looked in her eyes, she saw a little flash of panic, his entire exterior was tense, Tyrion was already at his side, looking similar.

A strung of guilt hit her; she never expected her little trip would worry them so much, or cause any trouble. She slowly patted Brynden Tully's arm, showing him she understood and he released her after a moment. Finding her composer, she straightened up and gave the men an assuring smile.

"Sansa what are you doing here, wouldn't it be better when you are with the other women in the keep?" Tyrion was now holding her arm, for a brief moment he looked at her belly and then turned to the wall before returning to her.

"I want to know what happened, not waiting for a messenger." She explained herself to them "I didn't expect this would be a problem." Tyrion wanted to say something but she held up her arm and continued in a half serious half playful tone to Tyrion: "By the way I already had my time in the keep with the other women, witnessing your sister getting drunk and making everybody uncomfortable. I think one time is enough." Sansa looked over her shoulder to the massive structure that was Maegor's Holdfast. "Bad enough poor Margaery must endure this today."

"It is too dangerous here for you." Her uncle insisted sternly. "You can't just..."

"I am not a child!" She interrupted him harsher than she wanted to, the last months her mood easily swung from one extreme to another. Most of the time she could control it, if it hadn't be extreme anxiety. She inhaled deeply before continuing slowly. "I am not a child, neither am I helpless. I stay."

"If you wish, but I would prefer if you would listen what Lord Brynden says." Tyrion tried to convince her but his tone gave away he already accepted her decision to stay and watch.

"Fine, but stay behind the battlement." He Uncle grunted, clearly even unhappier than before. "Boy! Make sure she stays out of sight" Pod startled up and came towards her, but Tyrion was faster, taking her hand she let him guide her to the edge of the wall.

"You uncle isn't happy." He whispered the obvious, gesturing with his head in his direction.

"But somebody has to watch out for you, so you won't lose more body parts." She teased him with a smile.

"Are you concerned about a special part?" He asked mischievous, making her chuckle.

"Don't flatter yourself. On the other hand I would hate to lose your right ear, I like it." Sansa traced her delicate fingers over his right ear. Tyrion looked dumbfounded by her grin, but if he had to reply something the laughter of Oberyn Martell drowned it easily.

The dornish seemed to find the scene entirely amusing before leaning at the battlement Tyrion guided her to.

"Don't worry my Lady, they are terrible shooters." Martell grinned at them before leaning demonstrative over the wall to watch the city.

-##-

Sansa couldn't understand what all the fuss was about, or why they even stood on the wall. She couldn't spot anything, Lord Bronn's sally was quick, and when the blood had been spilled she had looked away, not wanting to see it. She was more interested in the rest of the events. But for her eyes there was nothing. Tyrion tried to explain her why he had occasionally cheered, pointing at a small figure waving a flag on the outside walls of the city. For her part they could have stayed in the castle as well.

And when the screams had started to raise Sansa had wished she had stayed in the castle, enduring Cersei's drunken drama. But luckily they had ceased as fast as they had come.

She was now searching for something she could identify as a sign of battle when Tyrion besides her called out, waving his hand. Following his gaze she saw him.

'Finally!'

A rider on a white horse, wearing a white armour headed for the gate, waving his sword. He was accompanied by at least fifty men in red and in red and blue. Ser Jaime lifted his helmed gesturing towards them.

"About time!" Tyrion cried down, a grin developing on his face. "You are late brother, where were you? Fighting a tournament?"

"I have a reputation to protect brother!" Ser Jaime grinned back. "Open the gate, the city is safe and I have a very annoying Lady of your wife in a carriage in front of the gates eager to be reunited with her." Sansa's stomach jumped by the mention of Jeyne. Jaime Lannister wiped his forehead and continued. "Do you know how annoying it is to be asked 'When will you take the city?' five times a day, every day?"

"You see, I am not the only one who thinks you are slow." Tyrion gazed at Sansa, looking like he would burst into laughter before turning to Pod who looked suddenly very tense. "Open the gates and then make sure the carriage and the rest of our delayed group arrive in the keep as soon as possible." Nodding sharp Pod hasted to the near gatehouse, nearly tripping over his own feet.

Sansa thought he most likely was nervous to see Jeyne again, thinking of the at most occasions awkward couple before she felt a tug at her sleeve. Turning to Tyrion she saw him looking up at her expectantly.

"We won." He said at her quizzical gaze. He gave her a certain look and then she understood.

"My hero." She whispered grinning to him when she lowered herself down on his level for a kiss. "My brave hero, who stood at the wall, doing nothing."

"I was supervising." He defended himself against her playful teasing, being overly dramatic.

"Of course you were." She whispered again before continuing the kiss.

The throat-clearing of her uncle let Sansa looking up; he was clearly uncomfortable now, glancing away. Martell on the other side was proving himself a voyeur, starring grinning at them.

Tyrion quickly took her hand and guided her to the stairs, telling the stay-behinds to take care of the rest.

Reaching the base of the stairs they witnessed how Ser Jaime rode into the yard. The Lord Commander of the Kingsguard dismounted his horse and walked straight up to them, throwing his helmet nonchalant to a stunned squire.

"My Lady, beautiful as always." Jaime slightly bowed to her, a big smile on his face before turning to Tyrion. "One year and I am even more convinced you married way out of your league brother."

"Tell me something I don't know." taking her hand Tyrion looked grinning p to him. Ser Jaime looked well, the last time she saw him he had been weakened by the long journey to King's Landing, but now he looked more like the Jaime Lannister she had first met in Winterfell, except for his beard and the golden hand.

"Nice hand." Tyrion remarked smirking. "You must tell me where you get your nails done."

"I introduce you to the smith, maybe you are lucky and he has noses on sale." Ser Jaime replied, now walking to a bench near them and dropped down, exhaling loud. "Long day."

"But the city is safe?" Sansa asked cautiously, not wanting to offend him if the city wasn't fully secured.

"There are still some little nests but we will get to them soon enough, the main street and the surrounding areas are secured, the rest will be by nightfall. I saw Lucion on his way out." Ser Jaime leaned back looking exhausted. "How is Cersei? And Tommen?"

"Well, they will be happy to see you" Sansa answered him, glancing back at the Holdfast.

"I doubt Cersei wants to see me." he sounded resigning. "However I will go to them as soon as possible."

"Any other news from the world outside? We are low on ravens in the moment, must be the environment." Tyrion asked him.

"They shoot your ravens; my men found them outside the walls, or better most of them. I didn't received my, but Edmure Tully did, I get the news from him."

"Is my uncle with you?" Sansa asked hoping for some news of her family.

"I am sorry my Lady but no. It seems he broke his leg some time ago and it's not safe for him to ride." Ser Jaime gave her an apologizing look before turning to her husband again, grabbing under his armour. "I accepted all ravens for you." He handed Tyrion a large bundle of letters. Her Husband turned it in his hands before placing it on the bench.

"If you didn't get a letter, you don't know the good news right?" Tyrion asked, stepping closer to his brother.

"What good news?" He looked at Tyrion and than at her. Sansa felt warmth in her belly, anticipation to telling him the good news. She liked that the most and Tyrion looked at her expecting.

"Won't you tell?"

"Why not you?" She was the one making the announcement at her Nameday, so she thought it would be fair he could tell this time.

"My Lady I insist." He gestured with his hands to Ser Jaime, who looked more confuse with every moment.

"If you wish." Sansa tried to contain a too big smile, straighten up, inhaling. "I am with child."

Jaime's mouth dropped open, and he just starred at her for a brief moment before jumping up, causing her to back up slightly.

Laughing he stepped towards her, arms wide open. "This is wonderful." He exhaled when he swung his arms around her and lifted her in a firm hug from the ground for a moment. His dirty armour ruining her gown.

"Congratulations. Both of you." He marched to his brother but Tyrion held up his arms.

"Don't dare to lift me!"

"Than not." He stood between her and Tyrion, gazing back and forth, smiling brightly. "So another Lannister then."

His congratulations continued for a while until he excused himself, wanting to see for the King and his twin. Sansa was relieved he had taken it so well, but now she had to face the possibility that nobody outside of the keep knew from her condition. Something that could be caught up with of course but the reaction of her mother still frightened her, knotting her stomach. She had hoped her mother already received the news and had time to think about it. She just wanted to speak to Tyrion when a large carriage rolled through the gatehouse.

Jeyne was back, and Pod was already there to see her, in an appropriate distance of course. Even if Sansa thought half the yard between them was a bit too much.

"Pod. Pod." She called for him, carefully not to yell. When the squire looked to her she gestured him with her hands to go to the carriage. First he hesitated, but after she held out her arm and pointed at the carriage with a stern gaze, he started to move.

"And here we go." Sansa heard Tyrion's voice from behind, turning she found him sitting on the bench, scanning over the wax sigils on the letters. She sat beside him, observing the carriage stopping in the centre of the yard and Pod slowly advancing it.

"It's no dragon. If he knows that?" Tyrion laid the letters beside and followed her example to watch the scene.

Sansa found his behaviour rather sweet; he was nervous, nothing more. The door of the carriage opened and Jeyne stepped outside, her heir waving in the wind. Bewaring Pod, her eyes were immediately fixed to her feet, as were Pod's.

"How fascinating they shoes must be." Tyrion was clearly too amused by the scene, so Sansa gave him a pointed look.

"Let them, they will surprise you."

Despite they eyes fixed at their shoes they somehow managed to move in front of each other. Even from afar Sansa could see how they blushed. After some quiet moments Pod cautiously lifted his hand, offering it to Jeyne. The hand stayed in the air for some time, before Jeyne lifted hers. When they touched, both smiled, even if they separated a moment later.

"Somebody should tell him that that is the right time to kiss her." Tyrion commented at her side, verbalizing her thoughts

"I thought you were his mentor?" She asked him, grinning at him.

"You are right." He exhaled, grinning he formed a bell with his hands in front of his mouth. "Kiss her!" He shouted over the yard so everybody could hear it. Both, Jeyne and Pod, looked up startled, blushing crimson red before stepping away from each other.

"Now you scared them of." Sansa accused him, but couldn't forbear to be amused by the scene herself. "Couldn't you have been more discrete?"

"I can't do anything I ..." His word broke up when he gazed behind her. Turning her head Sansa saw how Lord Bronn and some of his men arrived from a side gate, walking under the wall to the Holdfast.

"Excuse me my dear..." All too sudden Tyrion jumped up and walked away to them.

Driven by curiosity and his sudden departure Sansa followed him, taking the letters with her.

He and Bronn met beside in one corner of the yard, Sansa arrived unnoticed short afterwards. It gave her the opportunity to see the hooded man in his undergarments before they could hide him. She immediately asked herself why the obvious prisoner wasn't brought through the main gate. His body was more red and purple than white from bruises. He was carried by two of Lord Bronn's men who pressed him onto his knees in front of her husband.

"My Lady." One of the sellswords noticed her, bowing slightly, followed by the rest. But Sansa had only eyes for the scene in front of her, the man on his knees and Tyrion smiling gruesome.

She didn't like what she saw; Tyrion shouldn't be so excited by such a poor creature. He quickly turned; her sight washed the smile out of his face, a caught expression remaining. She knew then something was up. Something bad.

"Sansa..."

"Who is this?" She asked, not letting him finish, her entire body tense, demanding an explanation for his behaviour.

"He.., he is just." Tyrion was clearly uncomfortable, coiling like a snake.

"Lift the hood." Sansa ordered the men sternly. They hesitated, hands akimbo hips she glared at them, tapping her foot on the ground. "Now!"

She turned he head to the surprisingly quiet Bronn who stood aside, clearly unwilling to be involved. Finally the hood was lifted and revealed a man with a gravely injured face.

"Who is this." the sellswords were quiet, they looked over challenged with the situation, they were yelled at by a fourteen years old girl, normally nobody would accept this quietly, but the defeated state of Tyrion, who looked very ashamed seemed to be enough for them to know not to buck.

"The High Septon, my Lady." One of them muttered under his breath, eyes on the ground.

"And why is he brought in the keep through a side gate? Why were there no news of his capture? She only addressed Tyrion now, yelling angry, her husband was in pressure to explain, but said nothing and slowly it dawned Sansa why there was no news of his capture.

"Bring him to my uncle." She ordered Bronn harsh, the former sellsword looked at Tyrion, asking for permission but when he received nothing from the Regent, who still had no words other than stammering, he just followed her command, smirking at her before leaving, letting her alone with her husband.

"I can explain it." Tyrion was sweating, holding up his arms.

"Oh no, let me." Sansa was angry, it was her first tantrum in his presence but she didn't care. "You let him bring her, without telling anyone, so you have something planning for him. Something you don't want anyone to know."

"I didn't plan anything." He defended himself looking helpless up to her.

"Don't try to fool me, I know you better, or at least I thought so. You wanted to torture him, right? Why?" She yelled at him, she never thought she would. Sansa knew of course that he did it before; Petyr Baelish's time in the black cells was known to her. This however was something different, there was no use to it, only, what she thought was revenge. And so she lost all her composer. "Who are you? Joffrey?"

"Sansa please." He begged her, trying to catch her hand but she backed up. "You can't worry so much. Think of the child."

"I worry as much as I want! Don't act like that, if you want me to be calm!" Sansa balled her fists, before turning away from him. "I thought you would never do that only because you want it."

"It's not like that. I just, I just..." He reached out for her again, but without success. "I am sorry."

Sansa turned back to glare at him. "Don't you dare to do so again!"

She turned away, wanting to leave but stopped one more time. "My Lord forgot the letters." she threw them to his feet and walked away. She couldn't think straight, her anger boiled too much in her.

-##-

The meeting of the Small Council to discuss the matters that occurred over the last month and how it would proceed now was scheduled three days after the city had been freed by Ser Jaime's men. The inhabitants of the keep had been relieved when it had been finally over and the celebrations had only been started, there would be a tournament in four days. But first it was time to bring order in the Kingdoms. The missed letters had thrown them back too much, again.

Sansa sat at her usual seat, between Tommen and Tyrion, at the large table of the Small Council.

Her anger for Tyrion had boiled down over the last days and he had tried everything to be in her good grace again. But Sansa still was angry with him, hurt too. She had been cold to him ever since. He hadn't been supposed to have a dark side in her view; he had been her Tyrion, her witty, good hearted Tyrion. This was her actual problem with the situation, Margaery had pointed out what the High Septon had done to her and Sansa agreed with her that he wasn't innocent at all. But still, Tyrion shouldn't have done it, she wasn't sure any more if she could trust him the way she had done again.

But she hoped so, and concerning this dark part of him, she would watch out for it in the future, after all she could see that he was ashamed for what he did even if it didn't influence her yet.

It hadn't helped the High Septon, he had been executed yesterday, and the Most Devout would elect a new one today, so there could be one for tomorrow's ceremony.

Gazing over the table she beheld Ser Jaime, he looked so bored about the meeting that he could fall asleep any moment, so was Tommen. In matters of council meetings the King and his uncle were very much alike she thought with a slight chuckle. Both most likely wanted to do something else. Sansa gestured discrete to Margaery to wake her husband, who was asleep, before anybody notices.

Looking around again, Sansa's eyes found Maellius, the Master of Whisperers changed his behaviour towards Tyrion lately and she suspected he was afraid of him now. Sansa didn't like it, Had Tyrion done something to him that he was so afraid? She really hoped not.

Turning her attention back to the discussion she noticed that Grand Maester Perestan was nagging again. He had felt deeply insulted that he hadn't been asked before Zuquid had been sent away.

"It was foolish to trust this foreigner, before consulting me?" He was in one of his tirades. "He could have been a fraud. Not to mention that the wisdom of the Maesters is ..."

"We know this, but it worked, didn't it?"Garlan stopped him, visible annoyed. "Lord Stark beat Stannis and the Wildlings; furthermore he struck back another attack from beyond the Wall."

"Grumpkins and Snarks, right?" Maellius found the idea of an attack from the Others clearly amusing, even Sansa had sometimes her doubts; maybe it was just another Wildling attack, misinterpreted by the exhausted men.

"Whatever it was, we have to deal with the outcome now." Brynden Tully threw into the round, looking expecting in hers and Tyrion's direction. "Especially concerning Stannis's family."

"After evaluating all we know" Tyrion straightened up in his chair we came to the decision it would be the best not to hold his wife or daughter responsible for his treason. Furthermore we decided to grant Lady Shireen Storm's End. Lord Davos Seaworth will be her Lord-Protector until she comes of age. Any suggestions, propositions?"

Sansa was glad it played out so well, the poor girl shouldn't suffer, it also was her idea to give her Storm's End rather than Dragonstone.

"Lord Seaworth?" Lord Swyft asked puzzled. "Isn't he just the Onion Knight?"

"Stannis made him Lord of the Rainforest and we decided to legitimise this deed." Sansa cleared the situation for the Master of Coins.

"That's all well and good, but what will happen to the Florents and their claim to Brightwater Keep?" Martell asked, grinning towards Garlan. "Will their claim be restored by the crone as well?"

Brightwater Keep had been given to Garlan, even if the Florents still hold the castle and Sansa knew that Oberyn Martell knew this.

"Lord Tyrell is the Lord of Brightwater Keep, and the Florents will accept it, they must." Margaery stated clearly. Sansa saw how Tyrion slightly grimaced, he wanted to give the castle back to the Florents but knew he couldn't, Garlan was Hand of the King and somebody had to be punished for Stannis's usurpation, even if anybody else had been pardoned.

"Dragonstone will go to the heir of King Tommen." Garlan started a new topic, gesturing to Tommen. "As soon as he is born."

"They should begin soon." Martell's words were low but still clearly to hear, he liked it to provoke.

"More objection, suggestions?" Tyrion asked in the round but everybody kept silent. "Useful as always" He muttered grinning before leaning back.

Sansa was relieved nobody objected, but on the other hand what could they have said? Demanding Shireen Baratheon's death, this wouldn't happen.

"Lord Stark will be informed about our decisions." Tyrion closed the subject and started to speak when Perestan interrupted.

"What is with the North?"

"I trust Lord Stark will be able to bring order in his own lands." Tyrion pressed out, fixating Perestan.

"And the Wildlings? Boltons?"

"My brother will do what is best." Sansa tried to shut him down. Robb was Lord of Winterfell now, he would deal with it.

"I think we should continue." Tyrion stated, giving Perestan a pointed look. "The Ironborn"

"Ah, shall we discuss the massacre that the so glorious heir of Highgarden ordered on the Shield Islands?" Oberyn Martell asked rude towards Margaery and Garlan, leaning over the table. Margaery wanted to open her mouth but Tyrion was faster.

"Whatever Lord Willas did, was in his rights. The Ironborn were pirates and they received a pirate's punishment." Sansa thought he didn't sound very convincing at all. She herself had been shocked when she had heard what happened, the events had been overly cruel and wouldn't the still fragile state of the seven Kingdoms demand it; there would be much harder words for Willas Tyrell's actions. But he was the brother-in-law of the King and apparently this was enough to let it pass. She didn't like it, but it was necessary.

She wasn't the only one on the table thinking so, she knew Tyrion wasn't happy about it and she could observe the Blackfish's tight pressed lips. Even Margaery had been upset about her brother, she had explained Sansa that Willas was sometimes too hard, he might be gentle and kind but also a, she had called it 'overly lawful', judge.

"And what will happen with the Iron Islands now?" The red Viper of Dorne continued, with not a bit more civil tone. "All their Lords are dead, who shall rule them? Or does the Regent intend to distribute the Islands to the winner?" He smiled at the King's side of the table, letting his accusation floating in the room.

"Not all Lords are dead my Lord." Brynden Tully leaned back in his chair, eyeing the dornish with a hard gaze. "Some of them supported us and not all of the other were at the Shields, neither were their childless."

"So they will rule like nothing happened?" No matter what, Martell seemed to gain pleasure out of his criticism.

"Of course not." Margaery spoke in her calming voice. "They will pay, the people they captured as slaves will be returned to their homes, they will pay for the damage they caused and" she turned to Sansa and Tyrion. "As far as I understood House Greyjoy will cease to exist."

"Something like that." Tyrion straighten up. "The title of paramour will go to House Harlow, Lord Rodrik Harlow, called the reader, - a man who seems to be sympathetic by the way -" Tyrion added with a grin, receiving a chuckle from Sansa and even Jaime seems have heard it, exhaling a grunt. "He supported our troops under the premise that we accept his niece as his heir. Ser Daven agreed. I am willing to approve this deal if there are no objections." He opened his arm to the round.

"This girl, who is she?" Swyft asked, clearly bewildered.

"Asha Greyjoy, Balon's daughter." Maellius informed him, smiling patronizingly over his ignorance.

"So in the end the Greyjoys will continue to rule?" Martell again, Sansa started to tip her fingers on the table, this man's constant objections annoyed her more and more, she was tense, and to crown it all, hungry again.

"Is it wise to allow the girl inheriting the Iron Islands? After all she was and still is, an enemy captain and led the attack on the North." Maellius turned to Sansa, as if he would expect support.

"She and her men aided our men at the Wall, we should acknowledge that." Brynden Tully explained. "Pyke will be torn down; we should let the Ironborn at least have that. After all people will rather follow blood than a Lord we set in front of their noses."

"It also seems she understands the challenges her people have to face in the future; she knows that they depend on us." Tyrion sealed the discussion; none of the comments had been helpful, again. "Also, there will still be soldiers only a day's journey away from the islands. Lord Myatt will make sure there won't be problems."

"Are we done?" Tommen asked towards Margaery and Sansa, his eyes wide open and hopeful.

"Are we?" Sansa asked in the round.

"Maybe one thing of interest." The Master of Whisperers let himself hear. "I received information of a suspicious amount of deaths in the Free Cities."

"A plague?" Swyft asked fearful. "Something that could spread."

"Only if this plague only targets rich, influential persons."

"Then hope it's not a plague." Tyrion commented

"Magister, functionary and other rich persons of interest died, nobody knows how or why."

"I don't think it concerns us." Tyrion said, rising from is chair and left. "Or are we associated with them?" Maellius shook his head.

And so the meeting was over.

-##-

Sansa had never expected to see this. She was standing besides Tyrion next to the throne. Tommen sat in this monstrosity of sharp blades, head up, wearing the finest clothing imaginable. He looked like the King he was. Margaery, Garlan and, to Sansa's personal misfortune, Cersei were standing next to him too. Cersei had had to make more comments; one more hurtful than the other since she entered the room, only the starting ceremony stopped her from more. Sansa had slowly developed the urge to shut her up, but keep quiet, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of losing her composer.

She glanced over the heads of the Kingsguard, in front of them and witnessed how the new High Septon, the former Septon Raynard entered the throne room on his knees. Margaery got what she wanted, the Faith on its knees, giving itself up to the King. Total surrender. Sansa could see how she smiled.

While the High Septon in a hair-shirt crawled to the edge of the steps to the throne, Sansa let her gaze wander.

The entire court was present, her uncle looked undecipherable, Maellius besides him by contrary looked very amused about the scene.

She spotted Lucion quiet in a corner, the knight had been hit hard by the death of his father, he had gone inside himself, and failed to return yet.

Sansa looked down at her husband at her side, and thought she spotted a slightly grin over the sight in his face. She didn't like it; her memories of the old High Septon and what he had planned with him were to fresh in her mind. She had continued to be cold to him, punishing him with silence. But now she thought maybe it was time to find a solution.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the entering of more men, led by Lancel Lannister. He was the knight who had been chosen to deliver the surrender of the Faith Militia; he carried a flag showing a seven pointed star and a sword. A lesson for him Tyrion had said. Sansa on the other hand thought that the knight would receive land and a wife afterwards, not a good lesson, but she was happy for Lancel's mother who got the chance of grandchildren sooner than she expected.

In the meantime the High Septon reached the steps, keeping his head down he offered his newly made crown to the King, speaking the words which had been placed in his mouth.

He surrendered the Faith to the King's mercy and pleaded for clemency, giving the secular power over the Faith to the King. Sansa found this was too harsh, but Margaery and Cersei insisted on it, it was the first time and most likely the last they concurred.

Lancel was next, throwing the flag and sword in front of the throne, and kneeling down, waiting for Tommen to act.

He had been good instructed; he jumped out of the throne, much more careful that it looked like and waddled to them, helping them up symbolically. The court applauded

-##-

Sansa walked ahead of Tyrion in their chambers, heading for the bedroom when he spoke, his voice low.

"I think we need to talk." Turning on her heels she faced him, he stood near the door, eyes on her. He looked like a beaten puppy, a puppy with a huge scar, but a puppy like he searched for something in her expression. It created a pang in Sansa's heart to see him like this. She nodded and sat down in a chair near a window, gesturing Pod, Jeyne and Viola who stood in the door frame to leave.

He stepped nearer to her, his hands in a pleading gesture in front of him.

"I am sorry Sansa." He apologized, pleading eyes on her. "Please don't be mad at me."

"I am not mad." She confessed, Sansa turned her head to look out of the window, sorrow in her tone. "I was, but only briefly. I am not mad or angry any more. It is just..." She searched for the right words, trying to ignore her bad feeling about all this. Sighting she continued. "I am disappointed." Finally looking at him, she regretted her words immediately, Tyrion looked like she had hit him, but she had to finish. "Maybe it is my fault. I knew you weren't the knight in the shiny armour, I knew it from the beginning. You have a not so pleasant side in you, but I was blind to it."

"Sansa..." He started.

"Let me finish." She held up her hand. "I know you are capable of gruesome things. But I always thought you would do them just if necessary, not out of lower motives, like revenge or that you would gain lust out of it. I thought you were better than that. Better than the rest." Sansa's voice was deeply sad, trembling and she had a hard time to avoid tears.

"Sansa I am..." But Tyrion hadn't any more words before looking ashamed at his feet.

"I know you tortured Baelish and what else you did." She sounded like she wanted somehow justify her words. "But it is different to know and to see."

"I am not all bad" Now it was Tyrion who justify himself, he still stood in the middle of the room, collapsed into himself. By his words a small smile appeared in Sansa's face and a laughter escape her.

"Oh, I know that." She eyed him, speaking clearer now. "I know you can be kind, gentle and decant even to those without any use for you. I remember that you were the only one who condoled to me about my father's death. I remember you stopping Joffrey from beating me and I remember you agreeing to marry the freighted hostage to beware her from a certain death. And even then you didn't take advantage of her."

"Oh, it was not only altruistic, believe me." He wanted to grin but it faded when he saw her sad face.

"I think I just idealised you over all this, not wanting to see the rest of you, the dark side. I was blind. You were supposed to be better, you should be better." Tyrion turned away with watering eyes, balling his fists.

"You want to go then?" He pressed out, avoiding her gaze. Sansa was dumbfounded over his words for a moment.

"Sometimes you can be really stupid, you know that?" He turned to her as quick as a predator, closing the distance between them in large steps and stopped before her.

"You don't?" He stuttered, eyes on her. He sounded so vulnerable, Sansa bend down to be face to face with him.

"I love you" She said, strong and clear. "This won't change over something like this. I love al your good pars, not to mention your wit and so much more..." She kissed him, brushed her lips against his. "I will have to live with the knowledge of your dark side and you will have to control it." She laid her hands on his shoulders and looked him in the eyes. "I won't allow you acting like this, understand?" He cupped her cheek with his hand. The warm feeling of his touch let Sansa briefly forget the world around her.

"Everything you want." he promised, smiling relieved, a tear rolling in his scar.

"I will see to it." Now she smiled too. It had been good to talk, it felt better now. She was relieved and the knot in her stomach as much as the coldness to him slowly disappeared, floating out of her.

Tyrion climbed on the chair next to her, grabbing her hand. He traced the bones of her long elegant fingers, caressing them before kissing the hand.

"Can I ask you something?" He looked to her.

"Since when do you have to ask such a question?" She gave back, smiling at him.

"It's about our child." Sansa guided one of her hands to her belly, suddenly fearing an unpleasant revelation.

"What's about it?" She asked nervous.

"Nothing bad." He assured her quickly. "I was just wondering if you want your mother with you when the time comes."

"Oh..." The topic of her mother and her baby wasn't something she liked to approach, even if Tyrion meant well. She still feared her mother wouldn't accept her child, was it his after all. She hadn't been blind; she knew Lady Catelyn despised Tyrion, even if she hid it. What would she say about a child, or more than one? She never talked about this with anybody except Tyrion and he had waved her fears away, but she wasn't so sure about it. She feared the rejection or the disdain of her mother towards her baby. "Maybe this isn't so wise. I think my mother must attend to Bran and Rickon first."

"Nonsense." Tyrion exhaled "Perestan said the child isn't due in five and a half month. In this time your mother can travel two times to the North. If this really should be a problem she can just bring them with her. Don't you want her here when it's time?" He had no idea how much she wanted that, how much she feared the birth, so many women died in childbirth, Sansa was afraid, Sansa wanted her mother there but not with disdain in her eyes.

"I am not sure this would be good. And I have you." She said, tracing his left ear with her fingers.

"I am not sure how good I would do."

"Just let it go." With these words Sansa rose from her chair and went to the bedroom, for her this topic was over.

-##-

The days passed and the tournament to celebrate the victory and in extend the end of the `War of the six Kings´, Tommen had been count in, began. It was a cheerful event; the people of King's Landing were feasted on expenses of the crown, and were now filling the field of tournament.

Sansa sat on the platform of the royal family watching the joist with Tommen and Margaery, Jeyne and Pod sat together on the tribune, holding hands again. Cersei wouldn't attend today and Sansa was thankful for that. Tyrion was missing or better late, she had no idea where he was, it didn't worry her too much but still there was a not so good feeling in her stomach about it.

Their relationship tuned to the better again, even if there was still this spark of disappointment in her about his actions. But she had decided not to dwell on his bad sides, but to remember why she loved him.

The next pass was between a Ser Roland de Verrec, a good looking knight with a thornless white rose on his shield, and Ser Pate of Stoney Sept. The knight with the white rose approached the platform and bowed to King and Queen before addressing her.

"My Lady, may I beg for a token of your favour? I may ride in your honour." Sansa smiled, she always had imagined something like that when she had been a child, it was a great feeling.

"You know I am married right?" She asked him, causing a deep blush on his face.

"Of course, my Lady, sorry, I didn't want to be intrusive, I just..." he stuttered, crimson red.

"Enough, enough" she laughed about the situation. "I know what you intended, Ser. Give me your lance." Still blushing he lowered his lance letting her knot a handkerchief around the tip. "I expect a winner." She declared. He bowed and left for his place.

Sansa was amused; the young man just wanted a Lady's favour as a talisman, not more, just a tradition in a joist.

The knights made themselves ready for Tommen to give the signal to start but the young King had other in mind first.

"I am the next to compete" He declared to her and Margaery. "And I will fight in Margy's honour."

"As honourable as this might be your Grace, you won't." Sansa said sternly, not looking at Margaery's smile while trying to hide her own.

"What, but I want. Auntie, please" He pleading, leaning to her, nearly begging.

"Not today, not here." Sansa didn't raise her voice but the message was clear.

"Margy" Tommen turned to his wife with pleading eyes, but Margaery just threw her hand up.

"Hear what your aunt said. I am on your side but..." Margaery gazed at her. "I am not as stupid as talking back to her." Tommen crossed his arms over his chest, grimaced his face and gestured with his hand and the trumpets resounded, the knights could begin.

Ser Pate wasn't very lucky this day Verrec threw him out of the saddle in one quick elegant move, it seemed Sansa choose the right knight today. She was curious if he would win, but before that he would have to face Brienne. With the support of Jaime she participated in the joist.

'She will win, that's why she must participate' Jaime had declared yesterday and nobody had spoken against him. She already had beaten her first opponent and Verrec was next after a small pause.

Sansa looked around if Tyrion would finally show up, but she only spotted her uncle and Garlan at the side of the field discussing about the knights to compete. Then she was distracted by Viola bringing a plate with lemon cakes.

"Thank you." She said and took some; she was already hungry again, after a meal not two hours ago. She had started to feel fat and bloated, even if she wasn't, but if she would continue like that she would be able to compete with Genna soon.

"Can I have some?" Tommen at her side asked. "You eat always so much and I am never allowed more than four a day."

"That's because I am pregnant, I am allowed to do so." Smiling she took the plate from Viola and offered to Tommen, who grab greedy two hands full of cakes, sharing them with Margaery.

It was heart-warming and Sansa wanted to say something but then she heard Tyrion placing himself next to hear.

"You are late." She stated, looking in his much to smooth facial expression. "What are you up to?"

"Nothing, why do you think I am." He sounded very pleased with himself, too pleased.

"You know. To have a nose has advantages." She said, leaning to him, tipping with one of her fingers against her nose. "I can smell when you are up to something.

Before he could answer the trumpets signalled for the next round.

-##-

Two month later

"Sansa, Sansa!" Tyrion stormed in the bedroom, visibly excited.

"What is it?" She asked, bracing herself on her arms, she just had lied in the bed, resting her eyes.

"We must go to the harbour; a ship with high guests is arriving." He stated, looking at her expecting. What was it? Sansa had no idea what he meant; she had no knowledge about high guests.

"Who is it?" She asked, still a bit sleepy.

"You will see, come on." He waved his hand like a boy, grinning at her.

"Can't Tommen and Margaery or Garlan welcome them?" Sansa wanted just to lie down again, she was tired, and she would have to change before welcoming guests.

"No, they can't, believe me." He said, cryptic. Sighting she swung her legs from the bed, holding her grown belly and reached a hand out for Viola, who had sat in a chair nearby, to help her up.

"If you insist."

Sansa couldn't ride any more, the Grand Maester had forbid it, so they used a palanquin to reach the harbour. Sansa had changed and had woken up, but still wasn't sure what was going on, Tyrion didn't tell her, she was suspicious about it. He planed something, she just didn't know what.

Finally standing on the pier Sansa waited for the ship to appear from behind the Red Keep, it was the only direction a ship could come from.

"Will you tell me who we expect now?" She asked Tyrion annoyed about his silence.

"Just look." He gestured with his hand to the cliff the keep stood on. And really, just n the moment a ship came in sight from behind and Sansa hold her breath when she saw the grey Stark banner on top of the mast.

"You didn't?" She turned to her husband, who stood grinning besides her. "I said I don't wish to..."

"Sometimes..." he interrupted her, taking her hand, to cam her raise temper."Just trust me. Your mother agrees on that by the way. Her reply to my letter two month ago was very clear that she wanted to be here. And your little siblings are with her. As far as I know they are very excited"

Sansa's stomach felt like it would twist. There on that boat was her mother, and most likely Arya, Bran and Rickon. Half a year she didn't see them, Bran and Rickon even longer, more than four years by now. How would they be? She thought she should be angry with Tyrion for doing this behind her back, but somehow she wasn't, too much anticipation, too much happiness streaming through her.

The ship reached the pier, the railing was brought down and then her mother appeared, followed by Arya, a tall boy and Hodor, carrying Bran. Rickon pressed himself past their mother, running towards her, swinging his arms around her. He had grown tall, he laughed madly, jumping up and down, so happy to see her again. Sansa felt the same, there had been times she dared to hope to see them again, she had cried for them, but now they were here. Arya and Bran followed quickly in the group hug, even if Hodor had to hold Bran upright. It took some time until they separated from each other.

And then her mother stood in front of her, looking up and down before pulling her in a firm embrace.

"You look good" She whisperers in her ear. There was no disdain in her eyes, Sansa was happy.

Jaime

Sansa screamed again, the thick door didn't muffle the screams as good as Jaime had thought it would be. She was in labour and he waited, with the rest, in front of the door, for any news.

It wasn't long since it started, an excited servant had informed him and he had hurried to the birthing chamber, he wanted to see his first nephew or niece.

Tyrion had paced the floor in front of the room, claiming the midwives wouldn't allow him in, neither would Lady Stark. Jaime had been about to kick his ass, or grabbing his collar to throw him in the room when the door had opened and his wife had demanded loudly his presence.

Now he was pacing the room, together with Sansa's siblings, her uncle, her Lady Jeyne, who sat together with Tyrion's squire, Brienne, Tommen and his Queen, not to forget the three enormous wolves the Starks had with them.

Another scream

Cersei didn't accompany them, mostly because of the wolves, she hated hem, especially the one who had attacked Joffrey once, but nobody was willing to come near the beast. She also was afraid of the cripple, fearing recognition. Jaime didn't fear it, he felt bad now for what he did, but nothing more. They were family now and somehow he had started to like it. The youngest Stark especially, the boy was younger than Tommen but looked already more like an adult than the King, and he was wild, like a wolf.

Another scream

He hoped it would be over soon.

-##-

He wasn't sure how much time passed when the door swung open and Tyrion stepped outside, in his hand a small bundle. Jaime hadn't noticed that the screams ceased until then. He had leaned against a wall, dozing.

"And?" Brandon Stark asked cautious.

"Meet Gerion Lannister, heir to Casterly Rock." Tyrion proclaimed, raising the child and all in the room stepped nearer to see.

Jaime saw a perfectly well looking baby with a red-golden head of hair. Ohs and Ahs followed with smiles and all the fuss. He wanted to say something but was interrupted.

"Enough starring, the mother demand her child back" A midwife came from the door

Tyrion traced the face of his son with his finger and whispered.

"So come on, you don't want to let your mother wait. She is expecting us back." And Jaime's brother waddled back in the room to his wife. Jaime never had seen him so happy.

* * *

**In case of the timeline, I was told it would be confusing, all of chapter 35 expect the last part happened around the two month etc...**

**Verrec is stolen from Bernard Cornwell's book 1356, when I read it he reminded me somehow of old Sansa**

**I am not ready yet so expect more, not in two month, again sorry**

**I would maybe throw myself into my sword, but I have none**

**Please review, it's a long time and I need feedback if I hold the quality**


	38. Epilogue

**So many alerts, so many new followers and favourites, what can I say**

**I really feel bad about that**

**I own nothing, except the offspring, but I happily share**

* * *

Everybody had left, finally. Tyrion was tired, the sun were already dawn and the night had kept enter.

The day had been exhausting, for hours Sansa had been in labour and he had been condemned to stand aside, doing nothing. He had felt so useless, powerless. He had feared she would die any minute. He had held her hand, trying to calm her, but she only had dug her fingernails so deep in his skin that she had drawn blood.

He absently rubbed his hand over the spot while walking over to the bed. They were finally alone, he was really glad about that. All the good wishes and petting of his son had been nearly as bad as the birth itself. Everybody wanted to have a look, a touch. Constant chatter and ohs and ahs had been around him for hours. He couldn't blame them for it.

He climbed on the bed, carefully not to cause too much noises or disturbance. Sansa lay on her side, visibly exhausted with her eyes closed. She was illuminated by the full moon shining through the window. She was alive, healthy.

He still couldn't get her screams out of his head, how she had panted, had sweated. The midwives and Lady Stark had been all around her, telling her how to breath, to press. Tyrion had found this all very distracting and he was sure Sansa hadn't thought differ.

He laid himself beside her, facing her. She looked peaceful, a happy smile on her face. He then turned his gaze to the space between them, to his son. Gerion lay sleeping in the middle of the bed tightly wrapped in a blanked, sleeping as peacefully as his mother.

His son was perfect, more than perfect in his eyes. He was healthy, no sign of deformation. It had been what he feared most, secondly after Sansa's possible death. He himself had killed his mother, borne a dwarf; some even said he had had a tail during his first days.

Gerion had no tail, only perfection. He had pink skin and red golden hair. He also had blue eyes, Sansa's, his mother's, eyes. Tyrion had checked it when he had thought nobody would look, opening his eyes carefully to see the colour. Unlucky for him Lady Stark had seen him, scowling at him like she had tried to kill him with her mind, before snatching the baby out of his hands. He had only looked questioning at her, he had been carefully and Gerion certainly hadn't objected. He still wasn't sure what he had done wrong. But eventually he hadn't cared, because Catelyn Stark had placed the baby in Sansa's arms, and her smile had been more than he ever could have hoped for.

Everybody had wanted to hold him, until Catelyn Stark had banned them all at dusk. Only Cersei hadn't been present, actually he was thankful for that. But on the other hand he had liked to see her sour expression seeing a normal child not the by her predicted dwarf.

Tyrion slowly removed a flick of hair out of Sansa's face when she opened her eyes. He immediately cursed himself for waking her, but she just looked at him and smiled weakly.

"How are you feeling?" He asked with lowered voice, so he would at least not wake the baby.

"Fine. Tired." She sounded weak, sleepy. Sansa reached her hand out and stroked Gerion's head, carefully tracing his cheeks. It made Tyrion smile, warmth spreading his chest. "He is beautiful." Sansa exhaled a whisper, looking up to him.

She really looked at the end of her powers. She was pale, puffy eyes and deep black circles under her eyes.

"Yes he is." He agreed, trying not to look worried. He changed to a more comfortable position carefully, where he also had a better ankle to look at the two. "He is meant for greatness. I can feel it." He knew it deep in his guts. Gerion, his son, was supposed to be the greatest of his house. And why not?

"Not a day old and you already choose a faith for him." Sansa's laugh about it was small but her tone revealed him she thought the same.

They stayed like that for some time, together admiring the little life they created together. Tyrion's thoughts wandered around everything that had happened the last years, war, death, him finding what he thought never to get. Two years earlier he would have never imagined being so happy. His eyes searched the person responsible for all this, his wife. He needed to ask a question.

"Are you happy?" He asked her seriously. "I mean really happy?"

She looked at him like he had asked if the sky would be blue, or if he had made a joke she didn't understand. But when he neither laughed nor corrected himself, only looking expecting at her, she took a deep breath.

A smile formed on her lips, so sweet, so stunning beautiful he craved for it like a thirsty man for water.

"Of course I am." Her voice was true and her eyes confirmed the truth anyway. Tyrion felt suddenly even lighter than before. He knew she spoke the truth.

He had never been happier in his life than in this moment.

"Did you ever imagine it would be like this? I mean when we got married." He asked her dreamy, finding his gaze back on his son.

"No." A bit of sadness crept in her voice. Tyrion schooled himself, second time this evening he ruined the moment. "I hoped for mercy. Never had I hoped for this. For love, for bliss."

Tyrion caught her cheek, leaning over their son he brushed his lips slightly against hers. When he backed up he saw how really exhausted she looked like, more than he thought.

"We should sleep."

"Yes, we three have another day tomorrow."

Sansa was happy, Tyrion was happy; Gerion looked like he was happy too. And Tyrion hoped for more.

Of wolf and lion

Gerion Lannister sedately rode out of the Lion's Mouth, leaving Casterly Rock, his home. He was on his way to King's Landing to take the place he felt like he was born for: Hand of the King.

He looked around, surrounded by his escort which would follow him. His friends were there, his companions, his brothers in arms, his family.

He had thought about this moment for a long time and argued with himself how to proceed, even or especially with the sorrow in his heart. He had come to the conclusion that he should record everything he would do, keeping a diary, maybe it would distract him.

It would be a long ride so he figured he could start right now. Smirking about himself he grabbed the wooden blotter he used while riding from his saddle bag, gestured his squire to fetch parchment and pulled a quill out of his clothes.

His clothes were red, with grey insertion, together with golden lions and silver wolves. He had his sword, 'Golden Wolf', girt. A fine blade, a present from his father to his sixteenth Nameday. The sheath was wrapped in grey and red silk, with the same gold lion and silver wolf sticker, silver on red and gold on grey. The hilt itself had at one side a wolf and at the other a lion.

"Always remember who you are" His father had always told him all his life, he never forgot.

He was a Lannister, the heir to Casterly Rock, but he was also a Stark, he never forgot that.

Gerion thought about how he could start, remembering his father's words he decided to start with his family, from the beginning. By this thought he looked back at the grim looking rider at his side, smirked and started to write.

His parents were Tyrion and Sansa Lannister, obviously.

He briefly looked back at the Rock; they had just seen him off. Now they most likely were on the way to the glass garden, maybe already playing a game of Cyvasse together. It sometimes seemed they would only do so these days.

His father had served, first as Regent then as Hand for Gerion's cousin Tommen, King Tommen the docile, for more than twenty years, together with mother. The realm had prospered under their reign. They had been the grey eminences of the Red Keep, everything that had happened with their knowledge and permission.

Tommen was capable, but not a strong ruler, he needed other to be strong for him. Queen Margaery might was, but she alone wasn't enough, because she also had to be the good Queen. His father and mother had always been strong for them, some even called them 'King and Queen behind the curtains'.

He had seen how they ruled, since the age of six he had been prepared for his coming task. He had attended the meetings of the small council, listening, watching, never more. He had learned much, Maesters and teachers had been brought his home to teach.

After the said twenty years his father had resigned, declaring a younger generation should take the rudder and the Westerlands also would need his presence. It had been a lousy excuse for Gerion; he knew exactly why his father had left.

He had always talked about leaving the capital, spending the days with his wife, travelling through the seven Kingdoms and the Free Cities. This was the reason they left. Gerion also knew they were already planning to travel to Winterfell and from there down to Dorne. Gerion's mother seemed to enjoy this too. She hadn't pushed his father, but had placed little hints.

She had clearly enjoyed her time in the capital; normally it would have been more common for a Lady to stay at home rather than following her husband to rule. But not she, Gerion found that great. But his family had lived at the Rock too. Half a year in King's Landing, half a year at Casterly Rock. It had worked, somehow.

"Great thoughts you are writing down?" Caspre suddenly appeared at his side, riding his black horse, smirking at him. As usual his friend was dressed in black, with silver sticker and buttons.

"I want to record my time as Hand, for later." He explained the heir to Silver Vale. Lord Bronn's son was his friend since both of them had been toddlers, even if Gerion was roughly a year older than him. He grew up with him, learned how to fight with him, he was his confident he had fought with him.

"Oh, of course such a great man should always do so. You started with yourself yet?" Caspre made a mocking gesture to him. He was way too much like his father, although he had the education of a Lord, he deserved and the presence as such. But he also was disrespectful, cunning and ambitious.

"I am about to." Smirking and bowing way too much down, making a farce out of it Caspre left him, riding away and Gerion could continue.

He was his parents' first child, together they were five. Himself, Joanna, Eddard, Catelyn and Brandon. His family, they were close to each other, mother and father had made sure of that, raising them to be a real family. And they were such.

He was twenty-one, his looks tended after his father, without short height though. None of his siblings were dwarves. They were all tall, elegant. He and his brothers were also strong, his sisters beautiful. He had red golden hair, the only trait all of the Lannister-children had in common, paired blue eyes. But the folk said with a hint of Stark-steel.

Gerion wasn't surprised about that, his uncle Kevan had once described him and his siblings as Lannister forged with Stark-steel.

He thought of himself as a good sword fighter, even if this wasn't so important than his intellect. He had been called witty, grinning all too often. Sometimes even unpleasant. Many said he had his father's sharp tongue and his mother's wisdom. He doubted the wisdom part. Nobody was wiser than his mother; her advice had always been taken thankfully by him. But at least he was funny, so much to the sharp tongue. He saw himself as eloquent and charming.

He had also proved himself on a battlefield, leading a host during a little conflict with a minor Lord. He had smashed him; at the end he had even left the back of the line to lead the attack at a flank himself. He had felt the need for it. His mother and northern teachers, like his grandmother, called this trait wolf's blood. Yes, he had to admit, he sometimes had a certain temper, but he could control it, if he wanted to.

He was married too, but to his grief his wife, Fiona Payne would have to stay behind in the Westerlands. She was the daughter of his mother's best friend Jeyne and his father's former squire and now Lord Podrick Payne. He grew up with her, he loved her and she was pregnant with their first child. Gerion cursed himself because he had to leave, he already delayed his departure as long as he could but now he had to. Fiona hadn't come to see him off. She was angry because he leaves it made his heart felt like it would be in a clamp.

But he would bring her to the capital as soon as possible, let alone to avoid the predictable and most likely very unpleasant accusations and reactions of her best friend, of his sister.

His sister Joanna, Joany, was nineteen years old. Her look tended much more to their mother, but then there were her eyes, one green the other blue. She was the only one of his siblings who inherited their father's mismatched eyes. In contrast to his father it made her only more beautiful. But considering she was already called the most beautiful woman in Westeros it didn't add much. She also had their red golden hair, always wearing it open, maybe because Gerion always teased her by pulling her ponytails when they were younger.

It never had been a good idea, her share of wolf's blood was much greater than his, it was paired with incredible intelligence and a very cunning mind. She had always repaid him triple, and had still managed to appear like the perfect Lady. Only a grin, their father's grin, the since his father's time as hand called Lannistergrin, giving away her involvement.

"Is something wrong Gery?" She had asked in an innocent tone when she had placed a bucket with paint over his door, leaving him in an awful green. He had never been able to blame her.

Yes she could be vicious in her wrath, but never headless always calculating carefully not to let hints back. And of course their parents never punished her, only him.

She was married to the heir of Highgarden, Luthor Tyrell, son of Lord Willas. Gerion remembered very clearly her wedding day. Their mother had made the match and Ned and he had taken her husband to be aside and had told him.

"Hurt her, on any way and you will need the help of all gods in this world." As usual Ned had been more threatening than he had been. He always scared the crap out of people.

But it looked like she really liked her husband. If not Gerion had no doubt Luthor wouldn't have survived the birth of their son, their second child, last year. Joanna was able to defend herself, if necessary, without being not a perfect Lady. He was happy for his sister; he loved her no matter what.

By the way, no matter what would have been best or right, he would have laid waste to the entire Reach if his sister would be mistreated by him. Nobody would have been able to stop him. And once again, they would have feared Ned more.

His brother, Eddard, or how everybody called him Ned, was eighteen and so much different to him.

The people said he would be a chimera of his grandfathers. He looked very much like Ned Stark, they said, except for the red golden hair. He also had his grey eyes, together with golden sprinkles in them. But the demeanour and the presence he radiated were Tywin Lannister's.

His brother never smiled or laugh, had never had. Even as a baby he was always quiet, noble. And now, he most of the time looked grim. His demeanour was so much like Lord Tywin's had been that Gerion could swear some older Lords had crapped their pants when they had met him for the first time, believing to see a ghost. It was always the same, first they think he is only a stern looking man, but when they come nearer, seeing his facial expression, feeling his presence, his gaze they go pale. Same for the men who knew Ned Stark, the northern Lords, always saw a ghost.

And why not Ned, was much like their grandfather, calculating, he had political acumen, was ruthless, controlling, intelligent. He appeared cold; his lack of wolf's blood didn't make it better. But after all this he had honour, more than anyone Gerion ever met. Ned's honour was more important to him than anything else, except family. He always watched out for their family, sometimes even argued with father about his handling of it. He would never forget an insult. He would never overlook a crime or act dishonourably.

Gerion remembered a year ago, they had been out for a drink when a tavern wench had been close to be roughly handled by two Lannister soldiers. Something like that happened every day and nobody cared, Gerion hadn't cared. They had sad in a corner; nobody had recognized them, Ned, Caspre and Gerion. Ned had stood up, he had been quick, yanked both men away from the girl, slammed their heads in the table with a painful force. He had let them a choice, Wall or his sword. They had chosen the Wall

Gerion loved his brother, but he was all too serious for his taste.

He accompanied him to the capital, even if he hated to ride; he was more comfortable on a ship. Ned was a very skilled sailor and loved the sea, for his sixteenth Nameday father bought him a swan ship from the summer isles. Only a week later he and two other ships had beat ten long ships with ironborn pirates.

And because it had seemed Ned had liked it he had attacked the pirate's home base, burning their docs and capturing all pirates. Mother had been furious with him, how could he have been so reckless, she had asked him. Brining himself in danger.

"It was the right thing to do" He had replied "For the Westerlands, the realm and justice."

Father and mother had had the choice to punish him or reward him, they had chosen middle way. Making him Admiral of the sunset sea, a task with many duties and work. But now he was one of the most famous sailors in the realm, short behind Lord Seaworth.

Gerion would need him in King's Landing, Catty had said so and he trusted her in such things.

His sister Catelyn, or Catty, was fourteen, and by far the smartest of them all. Her look tended more to the Lannister side of the family. Aunt Genna once said she would look a bit like Cersei, except her blue eyes and red golden hair.

Gerion never believed that, he only knew the fat and bloated, constant drunk aunt Cersei who lived in a small villa at the edge of Lannisport. She had to live there because fifteen years ago, when father's ship was missing in a storm, she had tried to overtake Casterly Rock. She had had a few supporters and apparently a tiny nice plan. His mother however had not only stopped her but had thrown her out, declaring she wouldn't be allowed in the Rock any more. She had been granted the villa and a livelihood, but nothing more. And when father had returned, Gerion's mother stayed hard.

But however, Catty was extraordinary. His little sister had no wolf's blood, like Ned. She loved books, stories and riddles. She was a gentle soul, compassionate with other and nice to everybody. She lived at the Rock, and wasn't engaged yet, there were many suitors but she refused everybody.

"Whoever marries me must beat me in a game of Cyvasse first." She once had told him.

Because of that Gerion had the suspicion Catty would never marry. She had a strategic mind without any match he knew. She always was searching for new Cyvasse players because nobody could beat her. Mother was the only one who held longer against her but eventually she would lose too. Father didn't even played with her any more, only if she asked him with her big eyes, he never refused such a plead. Both his sisters were good in it, making him do whatever they want with a small 'but father' and a little sulking.

But it was annoying with Catty that after some time she exhaled a number of turns until she would win, correcting it down with every turn. If she was quiet you knew you didn't screw up but you lose anyway.

That's why he trusted her opinion when she had said he should take Ned with him.

The last and youngest of his siblings was Brandon, or Jaime Lannister reborn like some, including Brienne and Brynden Tully named him.

It was true, Bran looked like their uncle, except the hair, he was like him too. But he also had the greatest amount of wolf's blood. He was a fighter, an extraordinary sword fighter, even in his young age. He had trained since he was five.

First it was Uncle Jaime; he had seen his talent first. Gerion remembered how he had positioned himself between him and the lemon cakes in the garden in King's Landing, Bran had to fight him with a wooden stick to get to the plate. At the end uncle Jaime always laid laughing on the ground and Bran sat on him enjoying his cakes. Brienne had been the one to teach him, their mother's guard had been more than suitable for the task of training him. It was said he would already been able to beat most knights of the realm, even their uncle in his prime.

Now Bran was the squire for Edric Dayne the sword of the morning in Starfall, in Dorne. Edric was also their uncle; he had married their mother's sister Arya. They had three daughters, Visenya, Rhaenys and Ashara. He really liked them all and he was looking forward to see Rhaenys in the capital where she was one of Queen Margaery's Ladies.

Gerion suspected aunt Arya was building up Bran's skills in fighting too. She was after all very skilled, not a very good Lady tough. He knew his brother would be one of the greatest knights these lands ever had seen.

Gerion thought it could be good to write about the rest of his family now, his big and wide spread family.

He wrote about his cousin Myrcella and her husband Trystane Martell in Dorne and their son Lyvar, who would join him in King's Landing. Lyvar was a dornish, lean and a bit dull but a good man, although a bit too ambitious. Then there was of course the King.

Tommen was older than him, a good man, a good King, but like been said, weak. He only had one child, a son, Robert, he was exactly like him. King and prince cared more for kittens and amusements than to rule. This created the need for a Hand, a Hand they could trust, family. Gerion was sure, after him his son would follow him as Hand and his son him.

He wrote about his grandmother, Catelyn Stark, who travelled all around Westeros to be with all of her grandchildren at least once a year. She always had much to travel.

For example to Winterfell where Lord Robb Stark ruled the North. Sadly his first wife, Jeyne, died in childbirth seven years ago. He then had married a Frey, honouring some old pack, but had still no child with her. Surprisingly for a Frey, Gerion never understood why he had let this scum near him. But there was Torrhen, Robb's son and heir. Gerion didn't know him well, Torrhen hardly left Winterfell, or the North at all.

Different was it with his cousin Rickon, the Lord of the Dreadfort. He had often visited Casterly Rock, when they had been there, bringing his two sons and four daughters, much younger than them. The oldest was as old as Bran now.

Then there were his other uncle Brandon Stark who married Shireen Baratheon and lived with her at Storm's End, together with their daughter Mearlia and their son Stannis the younger. Gerion's family often visited them when they had been in King's Landing; it was only a few days away. They had played at the shores, climbing up the cliffs, causing their guards madness.

To mention would also be his Hoster Tully, the heir to Riverrun. He and Gerion fought together against minor Lords who thought to rebel. He would be waiting for them to come to King's Landing as well. He wanted to follow his idol the late Blackfish as Master of Law.

There were also many, many Lannister cousins Gerion hadn't the nerve to list, alone uncle Kevan's fifteen grandchildren were more than too much. He also didn't mention his cousin at the Vale, the shaking coward Lord, how the people call him.

All in all Gerion could say he was a member of the most powerful family in Westeros. They were Lannister, Stark and a bit Tully. They were powerful enough to withstand everything and to be safe.

And his part of the family were the strongest, because if wolf and lion mingle nothing can stop them, nobody would stop him.

He ended the last sentences and decided to continue later. There would be a long journey and then he would have to rule.

* * *

**I did it!**

**I never imagined it would take so long to reach this; I headed for this since I decided to take the story over six chapters**

**Sorry if it's a bit cheesy, I know that**

**I actually feel bad to end it, really bad but for now I told everything I had to tell, I have some other stories to tell now but maybe I will write some sequels for this**

**I will spent the next weeks with checking the old chapters and cleaning up, if there is a beta who wants to help, just say it**

**Maybe I will use the children more often in different stories**

**I must say it was a great time to write this for my favourite pairing, I am much to involve in than I suspected. I just hope you all liked the story, I liked to write it and to share it with you, show me your love by reviewing, telling me your opinion**


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